


i dwell here and so do you

by Mr_Phich



Series: everyone needs a chance to be small [8]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Bed-Wetting, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Clint Needs a Hug, Daddy!Steve, Diapers, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Little!Bucky - Freeform, M/M, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Non-Sexual Age Play, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Psychological Trauma, Restraining/Restraints, Sharing a Bed, Speech Disorders, Steve Likes to Help People, Steve Needs a Hug, Wetting, little!Clint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-06-17
Packaged: 2018-06-10 06:52:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6944266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mr_Phich/pseuds/Mr_Phich
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two’s company, three’s a crowd, the old adage goes. But Steve always wanted a big family.<br/>(The one where Bucky comes in from the cold).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here we go! This is actually the story that started the whole series and I'm really excited about it. If you're just joining us, this can be read as a stand-alone, but the other stories will give you nice background. Because this story is set after CA:TWS there will obviously be some trauma discussed. The story remains pretty light and fluffy. I'll post warnings on specific chapters if there are going to be mentions of self-harm or violence, though all mentions will be minimal. As always take care of yourself and your triggers and let me know if you would like a more detailed warning.

_ Enter This Deserted House  _

 

_ But please walk softly as you do. _

_ Frogs dwell here and crickets too. _

_ Ain't no ceiling, only blue. _

_ Jays dwell here and sunbeams too. _

_ Floors are flowers - take a few _

_ Ferns grow here and daisies too. _

_ Swoosh, whoosh - too-whit, too-woo _

_ Bats dwell here and hoot owls too. _

_ Ha-ha-ha, hee-hee, hoo-hoooo, _

_ Gnomes dwell here and goblins too. _

_ And my child, I thought you knew _

_ I dwell here… and so do you _

_ -Shel Silverstein _

 

Bucky turned himself in. To Steve, two weeks  _ after.  _ Coulson and Fury were busy carving a new SHIELD out of the wreckage, but Phil came when Steve called and brought SHIELD’s newly-vetted brainwashing experts with him. Tony was quick to pull in every possible medical asset he could. They kept Bucky sedated, that first week. Steve didn’t like it, but he understood the necessity. 

Mostly.  

 

Everyone, neurologists, doctors, prosthetics specialists, psychiatrists, brainwashing experts, psychics, worked around the clock for six long days before Steve was given any real answers. 

In some ways, those answers were better than he could have ever asked for. In most ways, they broke his heart

The good news was the Winter Soldier persona was a computer chip imbedded in Bucky’s brain. A top neurosurgeon was brought in on the third day to remove it. 

The bad news was that in order to make Bucky compliant enough for the chip to override his dominant personality, he had been drugged, and tortured, and torn apart until he just gave up. Bucky had never given up in Steve’s memory. Not ever. Scans revealed significant amounts of brain damage. The doctors didn’t know what Bucky’s healing factor was and if he would ever recover from that. Further investigation revealed that Bucky’s arm was drugging him, radioactive, and was potentially lethal. It had to be removed. An entire metal sub-skeleton had been added to his left side to support the weight of the prosthetic. Surgeons had to go in and unscrew the attachments and remove what they could of the metal skeleton - they were worried about heavy metal toxicity and possible drug reservoirs. The surgery lasted fourteen hours. Steve didn’t think he could breathe properly the entire time. 

Clint came and sat with him almost daily, for hours at a time. He didn’t ask Steve for anything, but Steve almost wished he would. If Clint needed his daddy right now...well that was the only thing in the world that could have dragged Steve from Bucky’s side. Mostly though, they just sat in silence. Sometimes Clint would lean up against him. Once or twice, Steve fell asleep on Clint’s shoulder. 

The others came and went too, though Tony and Bruce were mostly caught up in the medical mayhem surrounding Bucky. Natasha had her own set of memories and difficulties around Bucky (Yasha, she called him, when she wasn’t paying attention), but she and Thor seemed determined to make sure that Steve didn’t forget to eat. Sam was in and out as well, consulting with the psychologists, and psychiatrists, and neurologists, and neuropsychiatrists. He made sure that Steve slept at least two hours a day. 

Steve had really good friends.

 

On the seventh day, they woke Bucky up. Steve stood awkwardly on the side of the room as nurses carefully removed all the tubes connected to his friend. The psychologists and brain-washing experts thought those things would probably just freak Bucky out. They disconnected the IV that had been pumping Bucky full of sedatives and left Steve alone. The Avengers were standing by, outside the door, ready if this all went to hell. But Steve had to hope. 

It took about a half an hour (they’d had Bucky on the sedatives designed for Steve) before Bucky started to blink his eyes open. Bucky went very, very still and then shot up to sitting, wobbled, and collapsed onto the pillows. Steve was sitting next to the bed, still as stone, waiting. For what, he didn’t know. He watched as Bucky tracked all the windows and doors, watched as he realized his bed was in the most defendable position in the room, and then watched as his eyes spun over to Steve. 

Something flickered in them. 

“Stevie?” Bucky croaked. He threw himself at Steve. Steve heard a commotion outside the door as he caught him, as Bucky started to slip off the bed. Bucky started to cry. First, it was quiet, tears only Steve could feel, but then Bucky’s whole body started to shake. Steve held him and let his own tears come. 

“Yeah, Bucky. Yeah, it’s me.”

Steve didn’t know how long they sat there. A cramp in his back came and went. Bucky’s tears ran out, but the shakes and sobs did not. But Steve could hold Bucky forever. He wanted to hold Bucky forever. Eventually, Bucky’s body began to relax. Steve started to settle him back on the pillows. Bucky grabbed at Steve with his one remaining hand, panic in his body and eyes and breath. 

“I’m not going anywhere, Bucky. I’ll get into bed with you, okay? Just lie back a minute.” Bucky did as he was told, but kept his hand curled up in Steve’s shirt. That was when Steve noticed. A large wet patch covered Bucky’s lap. Steve was familiar with that sort of wet patch from the not quite two years he had been playing with Clint. 

_ Damn _ . 

“Bucky, bud?” Steve said, as gently as he could manage, sitting on the edge of the bed. “You wet yourself, a bit.”

Bucky’s face creased into confusion and he looked down into his lap. His face collapsed into distress. 

“No. I’m sorry, sir. Don’t...don’t punish I’m sorry, sir, sorry…” Steve’s entire chest constricted as Bucky curled tight into a ball, knees tight to his chest

Steve lay one of his hands on Bucky’s knee. Bucky flinched, but Steve soldiered on anyway. How many times had he been woken by a wet, panicking Clint? He could do this. “I’m not your handler. It’s Stevie, Buck. And it’s okay. You’re not going to be punished. Your body is pretty messed up right now and these things happen. We’ll just get you cleaned up, okay?” Steve continued murmuring reassurances until Bucky’s body uncurled and relaxed ever so slightly. 

Bucky blushed and looked away. “Stevie...I didn’t...”

“I know Bucky. We’ll talk about it later, okay? Right now, you’ll feel better once you’re clean. Let me grab a nurse…”

“No!” Bucky shouted, hand shooting out to grab Steve again. “Steve, no. I’ll forget. I’ll forget...Stevie don’t…”

“I won’t, Bucky,” Steve said through a tight throat. “Okay? I’ll stay with you. Why don’t we get you up and into the bathroom, okay?”

Bucky nodded ever so slightly. Steve slowly helped his friend up to his feet, pushing down everything he was feeling and thinking as hard as he could. Once he had Bucky up and leaning against him, he subtly pushed the buzzer for a nurse and hurried his friend into the bathroom. Given that they were in Stark tower, the medbay level bathroom was nearly as opulent as Steve’s own, with a bathtub that could easily hold a full grown man. 

Gently, gently, he helped Bucky strip. Bucky didn’t be able to do anything but stand there, shiver and stare at Steve. But he was there, so Steve could do this.  _ He could do this _ . He sat Bucky down on the toilet. Bucky wobbled and Steve had to hold his shoulders until Bucky regained his balance. 

“See if you can go anymore, okay?” Bucky blushed, but complied as Steve turned around and started up the tub, carefully checking that the water was neither too hot nor too cold. With practiced hands, Steve helped Bucky into the tub. The nurses had given Bucky a couple sponge baths over the last couple days, but Bucky was filthy. Still filthy from the battle, filthy from wherever he’d been been before the battle and after. Steve suddenly wondered if the pants Bucky had come in wearing had been wet. He hadn’t noticed. If this was a chronic issue (as the panic suggested to Steve it was) it would reveal itself in time. Bucky and he had all the time in the world now. 

Carefully, Steve washed Bucky from head to toe, taking away layers of grime and revealing a man who was too skinny, too pale, too shaken. Steve kept up a steady monologue about whatever popped into his head. He remembered when Bucky used to do this for him, when Steve was too weak to get up out bed and Bucky would carefully fill their tub with steaming water and lift Steve into it and gently wash his back with their too-rough washcloth and a bar of soap they made last for months. 

“You were smaller then.” Bucky whispered. Steve smiled at him and continued rinsing Bucky’s hair. Bucky’s head was tilted back, eyes half closed as Steve poured water over it to rinse out the shampoo. He looked relaxed. 

“I was, yeah.”

“I’m smaller now.”

“Everybody needs a chance to be small.” Steve whispered, tucking Bucky’s hair behind his ear. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ended up compressing two chapters, if you notice the chapter count is down to eight. I thought you guys deserved a long chapter and some little!Clint. 
> 
> There is a small but explicit mention of self-harm in this chapter. Let me know if you need more info or a redacted chapter.

They spent two more days in the medbay, with Bucky getting more and more anxious. Every time a new person came in, he panicked. Every time they had to run a test, he panicked. Every time he wet himself (yes to it being a chronic issue), he panicked. Every time Steve tried to leave, he really, seriously, completely panicked. (Steve only tried three times).

Eventually, all the doctors did was hand Steve ridiculously high doses of anti-anxiety and anti-seizure meds, mood stabilizers, a package of adult diapers, and a list of instructions and tell him that Bucky would probably be better off in a more controlled and limited environment and sent them home. It took two hours to get Bucky out of the medbay and into the elevator, and when they finally reached Steve’s room, Bucky spent another two hours hiding in Steve’s closet, only to emerge wet and crying.

They spent three weeks trying to get to some place Steve could call stable. And it was hard in ways he never expected. There was the day to day stuff he did expect - mood swings, and trouble eating, and sleepless nights, and wet clothes and sheets, and shakes, and sobs, and panic attacks.And there were unexpected things, too. That first week, Bucky could hardly walk in a straight line by himself. He dropped things and ran into furniture and tripped over his own feet, leaving bruises and hurts (mostly to Bucky’s ego as his body healed quickly, if not nearly as quickly as Steve’s).  Those things were hard, but Steve could deal.

But Steve didn’t expect to miss his friends and routines quite as much as he did. He missed Clint with a fierce intensity. He missed being daddy. And he missed his morning runs and cooking breakfast for his team and movie nights and bringing Tony food in his lab and making sure Bruce socialized sometimes and that Natasha wasn’t disappearing in her shell and that Thor was adjusting as well as he pretended he was…

There were a lot more people in his life than there had ever been when it had been him and Bucky, before. Even with the Commandos, it hadn’t been quite the same. They hadn’t been Steve’s responsibility in the same way. But he hunkered down and trusted that he and Bucky could get through this. Somehow.

In some ways, it wasn’t so different from looking after little Clint. Bucky relied on him for everything. In other ways, it was as different as it could possibly be.

Bucky spent the first week crying. Everything made him cry, but especially Steve trying to leave him alone. That first week, Steve couldn’t even go to the bathroom by himself. Instead Bucky would stand just inside the door. They had to work up to Bucky looking away. If Bucky couldn’t eat dinner, he cried. If Bucky dropped something, he cried. If Bucky wet himself, he cried. When Steve tried to bring up the adult diapers, Bucky cried. If Bucky couldn’t manage words, he cried. If he tripped or fell, he cried. Bucky even cried in his sleep, sometimes.

The second week, Bucky was angry. Angry at himself, mostly, but at Steve too. But he had still had to be in the same room as Steve, or he’d have a panic attack. It wasn’t a happy combination, and Steve lost a lot of crockery that week. Bucky tore up the entire package of diapers, and Steve was glad he had all of Clint’s things stowed safely away as he watched Bucky tear into a pillow. Steve had taken to letting Bucky tear things apart, because otherwise Bucky would dig his nails into his own flesh and rip until he was a bleeding mess. Steve lived through that twice before he figured out that giving Bucky something else to destroy took the edge off the anger. It probably wasn’t the healthiest way of teaching Bucky to cope, but Steve was doing his best. He trimmed Bucky’s nails as short as he could manage without hurting and gave Bucky a haircut to cover the spot where Bucky had ripped a handful of his hair out.

They weren’t at stable at the third week, but they were better. The doctors had upped Bucky’s mood stabilizer, given him a hardcore sleep aid, and once again left him in Steve’s hands. Steve kept managing. The moods that had taken over his life those first two weeks were still there, but less severe. Unfortunately, Bucky could swing from sad to angry in the course of a couple minutes. But on the plus side, Steve got to see some happy too. It was like the sun coming out at the end of February, when everything had been gray for so long that you didn’t even remember what colors were supposed to look like anymore.

After the 17th night (straight) of waking up wet, Bucky finally agreed to the adult diapers.

_It wasn’t a nightmare this time, thank god, but Steve was still woken by a warm wetness on his side, where Bucky had curled up tight to him. Now that the doctors had given Bucky the sleep aid, he rarely woke himself with these accidents, but Steve remained a light sleeper._

_He sighed. In an all too familiar pattern, Steve pushed himself up out of bed and quickly and quietly got cleaned up and dressed while Bucky snoozed on (it was the only time Steve got to shower with the door closed, and he took his moments when he could.) Once dressed in clean dry clothes, Steve knelt by the bed and called Bucky’s name. It was better not to touch him to wake him - for everyone. A couple more calls and Bucky’s eyes blinked open, fuzzy and narrowed to see in the dark._

_“Hey bud, you sprung a bit of a leak, so let’s get you cleaned up, okay?” Bucky’s face collapsed into an unbearably familiar look of distress as he glanced down to his lap. The top of their down cover was dry, but Bucky must have felt  the wetness as he shifted, because he started to cry. Steve reached out and pulled his friend in tight. “It’s alright, Bucky.”_

_Bucky hadn’t want to talk about this, before. Usually Steve just murmured some reassurances, helped Bucky into the bath (showers cause panic attacks, whether cold or hot) and back into bed._

_That night, however, Bucky asked, “Why Steve?”_

_“HYDRA,” Bucky flinched, and Steve squeezed him a little closer, “Messed up your brain and body pretty bad. The signals between your brain and your body are a little screwed up. So, during the night, your body doesn’t wake you up when you have to go. And during the day, your body tells you too late. It’s the same reason you sometimes eat too much or not enough and why you trip a lot, and why words are hard, and you need your anti-seizure meds.” All of this had been explained to Steve over the phone once it became clear that the incontinence was a chronic issue and the other issues had reared their heads. Over the last two and a half weeks, Steve has found himself grateful for all the time he’s spent talking to Clint and Phil about Clint’s various continence issues. It’s given him the practice needed to be calm and unembarrassed in this moment._

_“Will it get better?”_

_“We don’t know, bud.”_

_Bucky whimpered and buried his head in Steve’s neck, where Steve could feel the tears on Bucky’s face._

_“The doctors want to know whether you ever had an issue with this while you were with HYDRA.” Steve said gently, getting up on the bed and tucking Bucky more firmly into his side. They sat still for several long moments while Bucky whimpered and sniffled._

_“...yes. Sometimes.”_

_“Okay,” Steve answered, gently running a hand across Bucky’s trembling back._

_“Handler used to make me wear a diaper to punish me.”_

_“Oh buddy. When I offered you the diaper it wasn’t to punish you or embarrass you. It was so you could sleep without worrying or waking up.”_

_A long, still moment passed._

_“Do you still have some?” Bucky asked in a tiny, broken voice. Steve hated HYDRA so much in that moment. He knew that the other Avengers were out there, destroying the last vestiges of them. He knew that he was needed here. But he also really wanted to bash some skulls in. He took in a deep steadying breath._

_“Yeah, I do.” Technically, the ones Steve had were Clint’s old ones, but Bucky didn’t need to know that. He gave Bucky the time to calm down that he needed before carrying him into the bathroom to wash him. This part was as familiar to Steve as breathing. Clint loved being bathed. And Bucky fell into a still sort of calm in the bathtub that he otherwise never reached. Once Bucky was washed and wrapped up in a towel and seated in the armchair in Steve’s bedroom, Steve went about stripping the bed and wiping down the waterproof mattress cover and making it up again. He bagged  the linens up and tossed them into the hallway to deal with in the morning and opened the closet door. Tucked deep into a corner were  two plastic bins that held Clint’s little things. Behind those, Steve found the half empty bag of plain diapers from the early days of playing. Clint now preferred the ones that Steve special ordered with various designs printed on them, though he’d been too shy for those in the beginning._

_Steve found his way back out of the closet to find Bucky a little tense, but not too bad._

_“You’re probably gonna need help with these, Buck. Is it alright if I help you?”_

_Bucky blushed in the dim light of Steve’s bedroom but nodded. Steve thought for a moment. With Clint, his boy usually lay down on the bed and Steve changed him there. That would probably be too much for Bucky right then. Okay, then._

_Steve pulled out one of the diapers and carried it over. Bucky looked anywhere but the diaper in Steve’s hand. Gently, Steve coaxed Bucky to drop his towel and managed to get the diaper taped into place with Bucky standing. Bucky was taller than Clint, but much slimmer in the hip, so the fit wasn’t perfect. Steve would have to order some new ones for Bucky._

_“Alright bud, back into bed,” Steve said, holding out one of his t-shirts and some boxers._

 

Every night since then, Steve had diapered Bucky. They didn’t talk about it, but Steve was grateful that Bucky had finally relented. They both started sleeping better and Bucky’s mood evened out. It didn’t do anything about the day time issues, but Steve didn’t want to push Bucky, especially since they had yet to leave his apartment.

Which was starting to be a serious issue. Clint and he had not gone more than two weeks without playing since they started two years ago, and he knew that Clint was struggling. They spoke every night, except when Clint was out fighting HYDRA, and Steve usually spoke to Phil either before or after saying goodnight to Clint and Clint was struggling. A lot. He needed his little time to keep him on an even keel. Even so - there were ramifications of the kind of mind control Clint had undergone. Age play was one of the key ways that Clint coped, and he was reaching the end of when he would be useful in the field.

Which meant that Steve would need to figure this out. Soon.

*

Steve took a week getting his plan together, carefully talking things through with Clint after Bucky had crashed for the night. It was Friday, and Bucky and Steve were sitting on the couch, bringing Bucky slowly back to calm. (They’d been working on Steve being able to shower without Bucky in the room and it wasn’t easy).

“Bucky, I need to talk to you about something, okay?” Steve said, once Bucky’s breath had completely evened out and he had relaxed into Steve’s side. There was something odd about Bucky’s lack of arm that made it feel like they were melding when Bucky leaned up against him like this. Steve found it oddly comforting. He could feel Bucky nod against him. “This is important, so listen carefully, okay? If you do, we can put a new star on your chart.”

They’d been using a self care chart Steve had found on the internet and adapted for his use. Bucky got a star for letting Steve use the bathroom or shower on his own, he got stars for recognizing when he needed to eat, drink, or use the bathroom. He got stars for helping with dishes or laundry. When he got a certain amount of stars, he got something of his choosing from a list. The list had been hard to come up with, because Bucky wanted so little. They’d put extra long baths on it, Bucky had asked for a book of short stories. Steve had added trying a new TV show or having his favorite meal for dinner (turned out Bucky could eat spaghetti with red sauce for any meal. Possibly every meal, if Steve let him.)

Bucky nodded again. He was getting close to his extra long bath, which proved to be incredibly motivating.

“Thanks, Buck. Do you remember how I told you about my good friend Clint,” Steve waited til Bucky nodded, because sometimes it took a while to get his memories in order. “Clint is more than my friend.” Bucky tensed and Steve ran a soothing hand down his back. Bucky disliked implications of Steve having any sort of relationship with anyone but him, and Steve really didn’t know how to handle that. “When Clint was a kid he didn’t really get a chance to have a childhood, and some part of him always needed that. Still needs that. So I help him have that childhood. I...act as his Daddy, sometimes, and he acts like he’s my little boy.”

Bucky was tense in Steve’s arm, but he hadn’t yet pulled away, so Steve tried not to worry yet. He gave Bucky several long minutes to process.

“Can you repeat it back to me in your own words,” Steve prompted, as suggested by numerous websites and articles he’d read over the last several weeks.

“Sometimes, you act like Clint’s Daddy and he is your son.” Bucky said dutifully. The tension was easing, slowly, out of Bucky’s body.

“That’s right, good job, you earned your star. Before we put it on your chart, do you have any questions?”

Again, he gave Bucky time to process and organize his thoughts.

“...no. Everyone needs a chance to be small,” Bucky said in a careful voice. _Oh god_. Steve pulled Bucky in for a great big bear hug, relishing the way that Bucky snuggled into it.

Once they got up and put Bucky’s star up and Steve gave him half a dozen more hugs, he sat Bucky down again.

“Bucky. Clint really needs his Daddy right now. He’s missing me. And I’m missing him.”

“You can’t go!” Bucky said, sitting straight up, halfway between anger and panic. Steve reached for some modeling clay and pressed it into Bucky’s hand. Bucky immediately started mashing it.

“I’m not gonna go anywhere, Bucky. I’m going to stay right here with you.” Bucky relaxed minutely, though his shoulders remained clenched up around his ears and his fingers continued to pull and push at the clay Steve had given him. “Instead, Clint is going to come here.”

The tension came flooding back.

“No! No I don’t want him too!” Bucky shouted, tossing the clay at Steve. Steve sighed and grabbed Bucky’s arm and held his hand firmly. Bucky pulled and went to use his teeth to convince Steve to let him go, managing to break skin on Steve’s hand. “No! No! No! He’s not gonna! He can’t!” Steve shut down the hurt and the anger and the frustration and as gently as he could manage pulled Bucky into the restraint that the internet and Sam had taught him*, during the beginning of that week from hell. He carefully kept his limbs out of the way of Bucky’s mouth.

Bucky shouted and screamed and thrashed for another twenty minutes. Slowly, the fight drained out of Bucky to be replaced by tears. Steve waited until Bucky had been calm for a whole minute before letting him go and pulling him in for a hug.

“I’m sorry Stevie.” Bucky cried into Steve’s chest.

“I know you are, Buck. I’m sorry that we have to do something that is so hard for you. But Clint is important to me too, and his needs are just as important as your’s. He _is_ going to come visit tonight. He’s going to come at lunch time and spend the night with us. He’s going to sleep in bed with us, on the other side of me. And I will love you and be with you the whole time.”

Bucky just cried harder.

They spent the rest of the morning recovering, which mostly meant lying down on the couch and breathing in sync. Bucky fell asleep and wet himself, leading to a minor melt down and then a bath, which left Bucky relaxed and calm just as Clint was supposed to arrive. Steve couldn’t have planned it better himself. Steve let Bucky follow him around (not unlike a puppy dog, he thought fondly) while he pulled Clint’s little things out of the closet. The solid colored box, which held Clint’s clothes, pull ups,  and diapers, Steve left by the bathroom door. (Some of Bucky’s diapers had already been moved from his underwear drawer to under the sink, so both boys could have private changes later).

The other box, clear and holding some of Clint’s collection of toys (others were stealthily hid around the apartment), Steve brought into the living room. To his surprise, this box clearly held some interest for Bucky.

“Clint has blocks?”

“Clint has lots of blocks.”

“...do you think he’ll play with them tonight?” Steve looked over at Bucky, whose gaze was focused on the collection of soft, colorful blocks in the box. Clint also had a large collection of wooden blocks, legos, tinkertoys and lincoln logs, put away in the bottom shelves of one of Steve’s many cabinets.

 _Huh._ Steve thought, studying Bucky. _I wonder…_

“Why don’t you set them up for him? I bet if they’re out, he’ll want to play with them.” Steve popped open the box.

“...Are you sure he won’t mind?” Bucky asked tentatively, as he edged closer.

“Clint knows that it’s important to share.” Which, okay, wasn’t really an answer, but Bucky seemed to accept it and knelt down by the box and very carefully began pulling out the blocks and stacking them in little piles around him. He didn’t even notice when someone knocked on the door.

Keeping a careful eye on Bucky, Steve opened the door. To his surprise, Phil was there with Clint. Phil only dropped Clint off if he needed to talk to Steve if there were a lot of little issues going on with Clint. Actually, now that he thought about, it probably wasn’t that surprising that Phil had brought Clint.

“Hey buddy!”

Clint leaped into his arms, and Steve felt some of his tension melt away as he caught his boy and cuddled him close. Unfortunately, a lot of that tension returned as Clint started to cry. Steve frowned and started to rub Clint’s back. Phil was already pulling out a well loved purple flannel blanket out of the bag he was holding. Steve carefully tucked the blanket into Clint’s hands. Clint immediately tucked it up under his nose and shoved his thumb into his mouth, muffling the sobs slightly. Steve glanced back over at Bucky, who had backed away from the blocks and was now curled up against the side of the couch, single arm wrapped around his knees and watching the whole scene with wide eyes.

“I’d invite you in,” Steve said to Phil. “But I didn’t warn Bucky, and this is already a lot…”

Phil waved the apology aside, “No, it’s alright. He had a tough morning, so I wanted to make sure he made it all the way here without disappearing into the vents.”

Steve smiled a bit and continued to rub Clint’s back calmingly. “Tough morning?” He asked in concern.

“Tough week, really. He held it together pretty well until this week, but….well, you know.” Steve nodded, clutching his boy a little tighter. Phil glanced over at Bucky and pointedly didn’t say anything more, but Steve knew what Clint got like when it had been too long since he played .

“He hasn’t been sleeping well, either,” Phil continued, mildly. “Wouldn’t be surprised if he went down for a nap soon.”

“Nuhuh.” Clint mumbled, lifting his head to frown at the two of them. Steve chuckled.

“We’ll see, bud.” Clint pouted up at him. Phil gave them both a smile. They’d come a long way. Used to be that Clint and Phil were both unbearably awkward around each other when Clint was little. But with time, things had softened. It still wasn’t the easiest thing in the world, but it was much better, and Clint got everything he needed. Steve was grateful.

“Let me know if you need me to pick him up early,” Phil said. Clint’s arms tightened around Steve’s neck at the words, but he didn’t say anything. “Bye, sweetie.” Phil said, leaning in to give Clint a quick peck on the cheek, handing Steve Clint’s bag, and turning to leave.

“Phil?” Steve called as Phil pushed the elevator button. Phil turned back around, eyebrow raised quizzically. “I know it’s been tough, since...well over the last couple weeks, for you too. I appreciate you picking up the slack.”

Phil smiled a bit. “We both love him.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed as Phil stepped into the elevator. With that, Steve turned his attention to the little boy in his arms.

“Daddy. No nap.” Clint insisted.

“No promises. Right now, let’s get changed into some comfier clothes,” Steve said, expertly shifting Clint onto his hip so he could hold him with one arm and hefting Clint’s bag up onto his other shoulder to close the door. “Guess what, Bucky set up some of your toys for you, wasn’t that nice?”

Bucky was still huddled tightly into the side of the couch and was trembling minutely.

“Let’s say hi, okay?” Clint clung to Steve a little tighter. Steve approached Bucky but didn’t get too close. Slowly, he knelt down, so that Clint and he weren’t towering over Bucky.

“Clint, this is my very good friend Bucky. Bucky, this is my little boy, Clint.” Clint relaxed a little at the words, which had been Steve’s intent. “Can you guys wave hi?” Both of Steve’s boys poked their hands up and waved a tentative hello.

Steve smiled broadly. “I think we’re all gonna be good friends and have a lot of fun together.”  He turned to look straight at Bucky, giving him a reassuring little grin. “Bucky, Clint and I are going to go in the bedroom so that Clint can change into some play clothes. I need to close the door so Clint can have privacy. Do you think you can do that?”

Clint was quiet and still in Steve’s arms, except for the rhythmic sucking of his thumb.

Steve watched Bucky spiral through momentary panic and anger, proudly watched him take five deep breaths. “Can I have a star?” Bucky finally asked.

Steve thought he might break his face smiling. Bucky had never asked for a star before.

“You can have _two_.” Steve said. Bucky brightened and nodded. “I’m so proud of you buddy. If you get scared or mad, you come knock on the door or shout for me, okay? I’ll be right there.”

“What stars?” Clint asked around his thumb as Steve got to his feet and picked up Clint’s bag again, after giving Bucky a fond hair ruffle.

“Bucky earns stars for doing things that are hard for him,” Steve explained “When he gets a certain number of stars, he earns a prize.” He closed the bedroom door softly with his foot and lay a thoughtful looking Clint on the bed.

“Can I get stars?”

“What would you earn stars for?” Steve asked, suppressing a smile as he unzipped Clint’s bag. Clint was fond of silly t-shirts and sweatpants, big or little, so while Steve kept some of Clint’s clothes, Phil often brought a bag too. He pulled out an animaniacs t-shirt and a pair of soft, dark blue sweatpants. While Clint thought, Steve walked over to Clint’s box to pull out a pull up. Usually he gave Clint a choice about whether he wanted to wear one, but given the tension and what Phil had been saying over the phone (and had not said when dropping Clint off) Steve figured better safe than sorry. He already had one boy who was liable to melt down if he had an accident in front of the other. He could reduce the odds of it just a tad.

“I dunno,” Clint finally said, as Steve came back. When he saw the pull up, he frowned and shook his head. “Nuhuh,” he whispered firmly. “I dun wanna Daddy.”

“I think it’s a good idea, lovebug. If it stays dry this afternoon, you don’t have to wear one tomorrow morning.”

Clint pouted, but didn’t protest (much) as Steve slid it up his legs. Steve quickly finished with the rest of his clothes, playfully blowing on Clint’s stomach, leading to the expected giggles. Clint reached for Steve eagerly once he was dressed and Steve scooped him up.

“Go play now?”

“Yep.”

When they exited, Bucky had come away from the couch a bit and was stacking the blocks again.

“Bucky gonna play too?” Clint asked, thumb back in his mouth.  Bucky dropped the block he was holding and scooched back from the box.

“Who doesn’t like blocks and playing with toys?” Steve said playfully. He sat down on the rug, near Bucky, but not next to him and situated Clint in his lap.

“We should build a tower to the moon!” Clint exclaimed, starting to continue Bucky’s stack. Suddenly he frowned at it. “We’ll need more blocks.”

Steve chuckled as Clint ran over to the cupboard and started pulling out more blocks. Steve curled his finger at Bucky, who crept a little closer to Steve and gave him a tiny little smile.

Clint dragged over four boxes of blocks and poured them out on the floor into a chaotic mess. Steve could feel Bucky flinch at the mess, but Steve just chuckled. Clint tended toward chaos all the time, and it wasn’t worth trying to control, Steve had found (Phil backed him up on this).

Clint got on his knees and started building. This lasted about thirty seconds before he glared up at them. “Daddy! Bucky! You gotta help or we’ll never reach the moon!” Bucky startled again.

“Well Buck, you heard him! We better start building.”

It took Bucky a bit to warm up to the situation, but with Steve’s cajoling and support, he soon joined Clint in adding to the tower. He stayed quiet and planted by Steve’s side, but Steve counted it as a win anyway.

They played for the next twenty minutes, until the tower was reaching the height of the top of the couch.

“Alright, boys. I think it’s time for a lunch break,” Steve said, sorry to interrupt the play. Bucky kept to a pretty strict schedule with his meals, though, to help encourage regular eating patterns. The doctors hoped that once Bucky had a regular pattern he would have a better sense of when he was hungry.

“No, Daddy! Bucky and I are playing!” Clint hollered.

“Well I guess Bucky and I will just eat cheesy frogs all on our then.” Steve said, gently helping Bucky to his feet.

“...Cheesy frogs?”

“Mhm.” Steve agreed, turning towards the kitchen with Bucky, who was looking up at him in confusion. Steve winked down at Bucky, who quite unexpectedly, _giggled._ Steve heard Clint clambering up to his feet.

“Wait, Daddy! I want lunch too!” Clint ran over to Steve’s side and grabbed his shirt. “Daddy, can I still have lunch?”

“I don’t know, are you sure you want some?” Steve teased gently. He didn’t use to be able to tease Clint about food - little Clint had been honestly convinced that Steve might withhold food.

“Yes!”

“Alright then, I guess there’s enough cheesy frogs to go around.” Clint smiled broadly up at him. “Clint, go wash your hands in the kitchen - you can help me heat them up.”

“Okay Daddy!” Clint chirped, taking off at high speed for the kitchen. Steve barely resisted rolling his eyes. He turned to face Bucky and pulled him in for a tight hug. Clint could spend hours washing his hands, blowing bubbles and generally making a mess. It would give Steve a couple minutes to check in with Bucky.

“I am so proud of you, Buck. Let’s put your stars up from earlier and one more for playing so well with Clint today.” Steve felt Bucky nod against his chest and he gently led him over to his chart. He let Bucky pick the three stars. Bucky spent several minutes looking over the options, but Steve didn’t rush him. Finally, Bucky picked a purple sparkly one, a plain blue one, and a green one with gold squiggles. “Good choice, bud.” Steve praised as Bucky stuck them up on his chart. “Just two more til you earn your bath!”

Bucky smiled, more relaxed than Steve had seen him in a while.

“If I go to the bathroom now can I earn another?” Bucky asked, shyly and quietly. But he asked. Steve was so happy he could burst.  He had been about to suggest Bucky visit the bathroom. Usually he tried not to interfere, but with Clint here Steve figured Bucky could probably use a little more support than usual.

“I think that’s a great idea!”

“Kay.” Bucky mumbled. “Can, um, can you come?”

“Nice asking, buddy. Yes I’ll come.” So he and Bucky quickly headed to the bathroom. Bucky pushed his sweats down to pee, still not having mastered a button one handed. After Bucky had flushed and washed his hands, they stopped by the chart to add another star (butterfly patterned this time) and went into the kitchen. As expected, Clint had covered himself, the sink, and the counter with bubbles. He turned to face Bucky and Steve as they entered.

“I’m clean, Daddy!”

“I can see that, bud.” Steve laughed, heading over. Grabbing a clean dishcloth from the drawer, Steve quickly wiped the bubbles away.

“Aww, Daddy, I like the bubbles!”

“I know you do. But you don’t want your cheesy frogs to taste like soap, do you?” Clint mumbled something that sounded like a no as Steve wiped his face off. “Alright, let’s get them from the freezer.”

“Didja know that some frogs freeze all winter long and then, when the winter’s all gone, they unfreeze and swim away?” Clint chattered.

“Oh, really?” Steve asked as he started sorting through the freezer. Bucky had taken a seat at the kitchen table and was watching them tentatively, and Steve kept an equally careful eye on him. Yes, Bucky’s moods had settled, but they were still mercurial, at best. Triumphantly, Steve pulled out a ziploc of the anticipated cheesy frogs. Each one consisted of two pepper halves carved into the shape of a frog, stuffed with mac and cheese and then carefully baked together. They were easily little Clint’s favorite food. (Though Steve had once emerged from his bedroom at two in the morning to find a very big, pretty drunk, Clint stealing a bag of them from his fridge.)

“Would you get the pan out for me, baby?” Steve asked as he set the bag down on the counter.

“Not a baby, Daddy!” Clint hollered. And it was not the usual _I’m a big boy_ holler. Steve turned in concern. Clint was blushing brightly and staring at his toes, fidgeting with his t-shirt, and glancing at Bucky out of the corner of his eye in a very telling way.

Clint did always get a bit defensive about his little age with new people. As a little, Clint’s age was variable and not as fixed as if he had picked the age himself. It was also what caused Clint to switch so easily from big to little headspace as opposed to someone who was strictly a roleplayer. Clint’s headspace was with him all the time.

“Of course not, honey, you’re my big boy.” Steve reassured. “I wouldn’t ask a baby to help me cook frogs, would I?”

“No!”

“Exactly! So, would you get that pan out for me like the big boy you are?”

“Yes, Daddy!” And just like that Steve’s cheerful little boy was back. He rolled his eyes to himself but made a mental note to steer away from particularly _little_ nicknames until Clint was more familiar with Bucky.

While Clint noisily pulled out a cookie sheet, Steve washed his hands and pulled out the tinfoil and Clint’s special placemat, which he set on the table at Clint’s usual spot. Seeing Bucky gazing at it in curiosity, Steve pulled out another one and set it in front of Bucky with a wink. Between Clint and he, they quickly laid six frogs out on the sheet and Steve popped them in the oven.

“Alright, you take a seat at the table, Clint."

“Daddy, you forgot the markers!” Clint said as he clambered into his seat, sitting up on his knees. The place mat was an oversized coloring sheet that Steve had drawn up special for Clint and laminated. Clint could color it in with magic markers, which Steve would later wash away, allowing Clint to use it multiple times. The one that Steve had laid down for Clint showed the Avengers visiting the circus. The one in front of Bucky was an Avengers movie night. Both featured a little Clint at Clint’s request.

“Oops!” Steve said playfully as he pulled out a mug of markers. He placed them on the table between Bucky and Clint. Bucky watched with wide eyes as Clint started coloring eagerly. Boys engaged, Steve started making his own dinner, putting together a few sandwiches and a large salad. Out of the corner of his eye, Steve watched as Bucky reached out tentatively for a marker.

  
And Steve wondered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *You should never restrain anyone if you can avoid it, as it can lead to serious injury for both the person being restrained and the person doing the restraining. There are safe ways to restrain someone, but you shouldn't attempt them without proper training. 
> 
> Thanks to your great asks and comments, I now have enough one-shots to post every Wednesday for the rest of this story.  
> Schedule will continue as planned; updates of i dwell here Mondays and Fridays, Clint-centric one-shots on Wednesdays.  
> As always, thank you for reading, kudoing, and commenting!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, commenting, and kudoing friends! Your comments have inspired new pieces of this story already, so keep at it! ;D  
> See you Wednesday for a one-shot and Friday for a new chapter!

By the end of lunch Clint was yawning widely and his eyes kept drifting shut. Steve hid a smile as he grabbed a washcloth. Clint mumbled complaints as Steve wiped his hands and mouth off, but promptly put his thumb in his mouth as soon as Steve was done.

Steve was about to turn around to put the washcloth back when Bucky spoke, voice cautious and quiet, “Stevie?”

Steve looked over and to his surprise Bucky was holding his hand out as if to be wiped down.

“Want some help, buddy?”

“...it’s hard to turn the sink on,” Bucky muttered slowly.

“So it is,” Steve said agreeably, crouching a bit to gently wipe Bucky’s hand. On a whim, he playfully wiped the cloth over Bucky’s face, tickling his nose in the process. Bucky wiggled his nose and let out another one of those tiny giggles from before.

It was beautiful.

“Alright, Clinty, nap time.”

“No!” Clint sat up quickly. “Not tired!”

Bucky backed up in his chair a bit when Clint refused. It would be good for Bucky to see how Steve reacted when Clint misbehaved, Steve figured. Not that he considered this misbehaving. This was pretty run of the mill for Clint, actually. Clint never wanted to stop playing - not to sleep or eat or potty. He scooped Clint up into his arms.

“No!” Clint wailed. “Dun wanna!”

Steve was surprised when actual tears began running down Clint’s face. Either Clint was way more tired than Steve thought or there was something else going on.

“How about this,” Steve proposed, shifting Clint onto one hip to free up his other hand. “How about we go lie in bed together for a bit and just snuggle? We can read a couple books, too?”

“No!” This time, the shout came from Bucky. Clint had started nodding against Steve’s chest, but froze when Bucky shouted. Bucky had sprung to his feet and he looked panicked, breath already coming in short, deep puffs.

Steve felt horribly outmanned.

“How about you come with us Bucky? We can all fit on the bed, and it will be good for you to get some rest too.”

“NO!” Clint hollered. “I don’t want him, Daddy! I want to be with you by myself! Bucky gets you all the time. It’s not fair!” Tears were running both boys’ faces and Bucky had backed himself into the wall where he stood, shuddering. Steve felt like crying too.

He brought his free hand up to the back of Clint’s head and rubbed. Carefully, he started inching a little closer to Bucky. When he was about ten feet away, Steve slid down the wall to sit on the floor, shuffling Clint into his lap. He patted the floor and Bucky slowly collapsed into a sitting position too.

“I know this is really hard, for everyone. Things are different today then what both of you are used to. But sometimes when things change it can be a really good thing. It might be scary at first, and we might miss some things about how it was before, but we get new things too. Clint, wasn’t it nice when Bucky played with us this morning? And Bucky, it was pretty cool to play with those blocks wasn’t it?” Steve didn’t wait for answers. “Things are going to be different, I can’t change that. But the important thing is that I love you both very very much, and I want you both to be safe and happy. Right now, I think some books and snuggles would help everyone. Can we try that?”

“Guesso.” Clint mumbled around his thumb, breath warm and wet against Steve’s neck.

Bucky took a minute to process, but nodded.

“Good boys.” Steve hefted himself to his feet, Clint still in his arms. He held out his other hand to Bucky and helped him up. He kept their hands clasped as he walked out of the kitchen and into the bedroom. Bucky followed a step behind. Steve took the chance to subtly check the state of Clint’s pull up.

Finding it dry, he delivered his boy straight to the bed, tucking him up under the covers. He pulled out a stack of books from his night stand and climbed into bed next to Clint. Clint immediately snuggled up under his arm, up against his body.

“Bucky, you come lie by me here, okay? Just like when we go to sleep.” Bucky looked nervous but slid into bed next to Steve anyway. Steve picked up the top book and started to read.

By the end of the second book, Clint was out cold and Bucky was looking pretty tired as well. While a nap was not a part of Bucky’s strict schedule, the doctors had told Steve that Bucky would probably require a lot more sleep now, due to the demands on his body and brain that used to be handled by the computer. It wasn’t uncommon for Bucky to crash for a couple hours in the middle of the day. So despite the nap this morning, Steve wanted to see if he could get Bucky to sleep too.

Reaching for the next book in the stack, Steve was surprised when Bucky cautiously pulled on his sleeve.

“What’s up, Buck?” Steve asked quietly, turning to his friend. Bucky glanced nervously over Steve’s body at the sleeping Clint and then shyly up at Steve’s face, before fixing his gaze on his lap.

“I don’t wanna sleep.”

“Bucky…” Steve started.

Bucky shook his head. “I’m tired, but what if I…” Bucky blushed.

 _Oh_ . Bucky didn’t always wet himself when he napped, but he often did. Steve hadn’t brought up the diapers for naps, mostly because he didn’t mind and he was trying to encourage Bucky to make requests and advocate for himself. _So how did he phrase this..._

“Well if you’re tired you need to sleep.” Bucky nodded slowly. “So what would you like to do about that?”

Bucky was silent for several minutes, but Steve was growing familiar with Bucky’s new processing speed and he was getting better at being patient, too. This required a different kind of patience than little Clint’s exuberance, messes, and occasional tantrums did, but Steve was learning.

“I could, uh, wear, uhm...like I do at night?” Bucky said quietly, a fierce blush covering his cheeks.

Steve smiled proudly. “That seems like a smart idea, bud. Shall I help you? We can go into the bathroom.”

Bucky nodded and slowly led the way to the bathroom. Steve closed the door and pulled out one of Bucky’s diapers (the new ones Steve had ordered to fit better) and went through the process of getting Bucky changed. Steve had looked around for a pull up he thought would work and had recently put in an order for some, but Bucky didn’t seem to have an issue with Steve helping him with this, just that he had to use them at all. With Bucky strapped in and dressed again, Steve led him back into bed and tucked him in.

“Can I get my last star?” Bucky asked sleepily, curling up under the covers. Steve smiled again and nodded.

“As soon as you wake up we’ll pick one out, okay?” Bucky smiled up at him, blinked his eyes closed, and snuggled deeper into the bed.

Steve waited til he was sure both boys were well and completely out, before starting to clean up the apartment. He started in the kitchen, slowly working his way back to the bedroom. In the living room, he patiently cleaned up the blocks and put them away. He brought out some coloring books, Clint’s dinosaurs, and a little dollhouse with dolls. Clint didn’t play with the dolls much, but Steve was getting curious about Bucky. He definitely thought there could be something little in Bucky now.

He wondered if Bucky had always been that way, if he just hadn’t had the words back in the ‘30s. It could just as easily be the trauma Bucky had gone through. Steve shook the thoughts off. He’d make himself crazy, thinking that way. Living room tidied, Steve quietly tip toed back into the bedroom. He collected the books, setting them aside for bedtime. Figuring he might as well get everything set for bedtime, Steve collected a pair of pjs and a diaper for Clint, which he put under the sink with Bucky’s things. As an afterthought, Steve grabbed some pj pants and a t-shirt for Bucky to wear that night. Usually they both dressed in the bedroom, well used to each other’s nude bodies, but Clint and Bucky would both want privacy from each other. Steve also shoved some clean pull ups for Clint under the sink, just in case.

Feeling a little more settled, Steve grabbed a book of his own and sat down in the armchair in the bedroom, ready to be there at a moment’s notice. He chuckled to himself. He was _such_ a Daddy.

Both boys slept for two hours, giving Steve plenty of down time and some time to research trauma and regression, which soothed his mind a little. He’d just let Bucky do what came naturally and accept everything that was a healthy way to cope. Steve would be lying if he said he didn’t secretly hope Bucky wanted to play with Clint and him. It would make Steve’s life easier, and he knew how to take care of someone in that way already. And he enjoyed it - he loved being Clint’s Daddy. It would be wonderful to share that with Bucky too. Time would tell.

It was Bucky who woke up first. It was, thankfully, not from a nightmare and therefore not suddenly or with fear. Steve watched him as he grew a little more restless and then slowly opened his eyes.

“Stevie?” Bucky called, as he always did upon waking. Steve was beside him in an instant. Bucky was always more liable to panic about Steve’s absence when just waking.

“Right here buddy,” Steve reassured, gently stroking Bucky’s hair. They had kept it a little longer than Bucky had back in the day, but it was much shorter than it had been when he came in. They left the top longer than the sides so it could fall over the bald spot. “How was your sleep?”

“‘ s’okay,” Bucky mumbled, slowly edging to seated. By the way he flushed half-way up, Steve figured the diaper was likely wet. He helped Bucky up out of bed.

“Do you want help?” Steve asked quietly at the bathroom door. Bucky blushed again. Bucky could take the diaper off by himself with the one arm, and with some wiggling could get his pants on - and he was getting better at both. But sometimes, when Bucky was just waking up or if it was really late, Bucky liked getting Steve’s help with the task.

“I can do it. Uhm, can, uh, can you come in though?” Bucky asked, shyly.

“Course, Buck.” Steve closed the door behind them after grabbing a pair of boxers for Bucky. Steve sat on the edge of the tub. Bucky closed the toilet lid and pulled the back of his pants down over his bum before sitting. He then pushed the pajama pants to his knees. With a little wiggle, the loose pants fell around his ankles, where Bucky used his feet to push them all the way off.

Steve and Bucky had worked hard on all of these things. Given Bucky’s clumsiness, sensory difficulties, and the single arm, dressing had been unexpectedly hard. And since Bucky had been unwilling to have an occupational therapist come and see him, he and Steve had mostly just worked out the best methods themselves.

With a blush, Bucky reached the straps of the diaper. Bucky could pull one strap at a time. Standing, that meant a diaper that fell to the floor. Sitting, they had found, worked a lot better. Bucky stood briefly to pull the diaper out from between his legs and dumped it in the trash. He grabbed some wipes off the back of the toilet and quickly wiped himself clean. Steve was glad to see how confident and quick Bucky was getting at this. Generally, Bucky would do this while Steve was showering in the morning, so Steve hadn’t really observed since Bucky felt he could do it on his own.

The underwear and sweatpants followed the opposite pattern as Bucky’s pajamas. He slid his feet into the correct holes and used his feet to get them around the ankles. From there he would reach down and pull them up. Anything with a tighter waist band had thus far proved too tough for Bucky to pull up, but they were working on it. (Buck had alway been so stylish, _before_ , and Steve wanted him to have that choice.) But with one hand and a little wiggling, Bucky could easily get elastic waist pants up. Just as Bucky stood to wash his hand, a whimpering cry of “Daddy!” Came from the bedroom.

“You alright if I go see to him?”

“Leave the door open?”

“Will do,” Steve said with a grin.

 

Clint was sitting up in bed, looking around with sleepy, confused eyes.

“Hey, lovebug.” Steve said, sitting down beside his boy.

“Daddy,” Clint sighed around his thumb, curling up into Steve’s side.

“How’d you sleep?” Steve asked, pulling Clint into his lap and wrapping his arms around him.

“Good,” Clint mumbled, and then, without shame, “Wet, Daddy.”

“I know, bud. Bucky’s washing his hands and then we’ll go get you changed.”

Clint tensed up when Steve said Bucky’s name and a blush bloomed across his cheeks, and god, Steve hated that. It had taken almost a year before Clint had been totally comfortable with his bedwetting (when little, at least) and trusted Steve to take care of it, letting Steve officially take those concerns off Clint for just a little bit. It helped keep the stress about it all low, which cut down on accidents when Clint was big, which made things easier for Clint _and_ Phil.

So it would be hard for a while, Steve thought, but he would get Clint there with Bucky around too. He didn’t know how, but he would. It would be easier if he could just out the two of them to each other - bond them through this thing they shared, but Steve didn’t know if that was really his place. And now wasn’t the time, either. Each boy was still too vulnerable, didn’t trust the other at all. Having that very private subject matter aired would just make them feel more sensitive and raw. It would have to wait until Steve could show them that they could trust each other.

Bucky emerged from the bathroom, a little tense and shaky as he spotted Clint and Steve on the bed together. Clint sucked his thumb a little harder. At least Clint still felt safe doing that, Steve thought as he got up out of bed.

“Hey Buck. Clint and I are gonna go into the bathroom and close the door for a couple minutes, alright? Why don’t you go pick out your star from before nap time and you can pick one more out for letting me and Clint close the door. What do you think?”

Bucky trembled in place for several long minutes. Steve let him process. There had been a lot of new demands on Bucky today - he was doing better than Steve had expected.

“Why isn’t he answering?” Clint asked in a very loud little boy whisper. Bucky shook a little harder.

“It’s okay, Bucky, you take your time, it’s alright.” Steve reassured gently, and then to Clint, “Bucky takes a long time to think about things, he needs to think about it all the way through before he can make a decision. Decisions are really hard for Bucky right now, so we have to give him plenty of time. I’m also asking Bucky to do something that’s really hard for him, so he needs to prepare himself.”

“Why is it hard,” Clint demanded, “s’just a closed door.”

Bucky’s breath was starting to go a little too fast for Steve’s comfort and he stepped slowly closer.

“Bucky gets afraid that if he can’t see me, he’ll forget like he did before.” Steve explained, carefully shifting Clint to one hip and using the freed up arm to pull Bucky into his side.

“Breathe, Bucky. Shh, it’s okay. I’m going to be right here and you’re not going to forget. It’s okay. It’ll be okay, shhh. Follow my breath, okay?” Steve pulled Bucky’s head against his chest, where Bucky could feel the deep even breaths Steve was taking. Clint was starting to shake in his arms too, and once again Steve felt horribly outmanned.

“Stevie - can’t...can’t br-breathe…” Bucky whimpered.

“Easy breaths, it’s okay. We’re gonna come out the other side of this, we always do, hmm? You and me, we got this.”

“Daddy, m’scared,” Clint whispered, burying his head in Steve’s shoulder. He could feel tears.

_He could do this, right?_

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday, folks! Thanks for your wonderful comments and kudos, they never fail to make my day!   
> This chapter is a bit short, as is the one on Monday, but after that they get longer!

 

It wasn’t pretty. They all ended up on the floor, Clint crying into Steve’s right side, Bucky struggling for breath on his left. Steve didn’t know what to do but squeeze them both tight and keep up the litany of reassurances. They spent probably half an hour crammed together on the floor. Finally (finally), Bucky’s breath evened out and Clint’s tears petered off. But Steve didn’t know what to do next - Clint still needed to be changed, but there was no way that Bucky was going to let him out his sight right now. 

_ So much for letting his boys grow to trust each other more.  _

“This has been a hard day, hasn’t it?” Steve asked softly, gently rubbing both boys’ backs. “And I’m very sorry, but I’m going to have to ask you both to do something really hard right now, so that I can keep you both safe and healthy.” Steve tried to keep his voice calm and steady, but the words themselves brought inevitable tension back into Bucky and Clint. “But it’s going to be okay, because I’m right here, and I love you, and I’m going to make everything turn out okay.”  _ God, he hoped he would.  _

“I’m going to need you both to be very honest with each other about something private. You don’t have to say the words, but I am going to and I need you to trust me. Can you do that?” Bucky trembled. Clint stilled and his body grew tighter and smaller. 

To his surprise, Bucky spoke first, “Trust you Stevie.”

“Good boy, Bucky. Good job. Thank you.” Steve said, rubbing Bucky’s back a little faster and stronger, in time with the trembles. 

“You’re m’Daddy,” was all Clint said, words spoken in a mumble around his thumb and into Steve’s neck, but it was all Steve needed to hear. 

“That’s my boy, my wonderful, perfect boy.” Steve praised. “You are both so brave and I love you so much.”

Steve took a deep breath. He didn’t like intruding on other people’s privacy - he thought that everyone had a right to their secrets. He didn’t like that he had to do this. But he had to change Clint and Bucky had to be able to see him. How else was he supposed to do this? He wouldn’t take from Clint any part of the all important age play and he couldn’t make Bucky suffer a panic attack alone and possibly face weeks of backtracking. This is how it had to go. 

“Both of you,  _ both _ , have a hard time staying dry, especially when you’re sleeping,” Steve said slowly, cautiously.  Both boys momentarily flinched into him. He could practically feel when they realized the ramifications of what he’d said. Both heads came up to stare at each other across Steve’s body. 

“Really?” Clint asked, a delicate blush across his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. “Really, really?” He was holding tightly to his blankie, tucked firmly up under his chin, but otherwise looked relatively relaxed. 

“Yes,” Steve confirmed, running reassuring hands down both their backs. “And, when you’re sleeping, you both wear protection.” Both blushes deepened, but neither boy vanished back into his sides, so  _ okay, he could do this _ . 

“But...but…” Clint mumbled, “Bucky’s not little.”

“No,” Steve said carefully. “But anyone who wants to or needs to can wear protection. You usually choose not to when you’re big,” Clint whined deep in his throat and tucked his thumb back into his mouth, “But Bucky does wear protection and he’s big.”

Steve turned his head a moment to study Bucky, who was still looking wide eyed at Clint. 

“Bucky, you okay bud?”

“Uhm, yeah. I...I didn’t know other grown ups...had problems like me.” Bucky muttered. He picked his hand up and rubbed it over his mouth, almost like he was going to mirror Clint and put his thumb in his mouth. 

“Lots of of grown ups have problems like this,” Steve confirmed. 

He let both boys process that for a couple more minutes, before Clint started shifting uncomfortably in his arms. 

“So,” Steve said, steeling himself, “Right now, Clint needs to get changed out of his protection,” Clint whined, Bucky blushed, “And Bucky needs to be with me. Clint, is it alright if Bucky stays in the bedroom with us while I change you?”

Clint whimpered into Steve’s neck but nodded all the same. Relief flooded through Steve. 

“Thank you, Clint. I know that was hard and you are being very, very brave,” Steve soothed. “Bucky, would you be okay going to sit on the chair while I change Clint?” Bucky took a deep breath and nodded. 

“Thanks, Buck. You guys are really helping me out,” Steve said as he carefully got to his feet, balancing a boy on each hip. Bucky seemed a little surprised about being lifted and windmilled his one arm a moment before grabbing on to the front of Steve’s shirt to steady himself. Steve delivered Bucky to the chair. Using a practiced move, Steve popped open Clint’s box with his foot and leant down for a packet of wipes and a clean pull up. Playfully, he dropped Clint on the bed and swooped in to blow on his belly. 

Clint shrieked with laughter. Amid wriggles and tickles, Steve quickly pulled down Clint’s sweats and ripped the edges of the pull up. He used one hand to tickle Clint and the other to quickly clean him up. Clint’s skin was looking a little red, so Steve made sure to get all traces of pee off his skin and apply a thin layer of cream. Soon he was slipping one of Clint’s pull ups the boy’s legs, white and patterned with purple monkeys, not even giving Clint a chance to get embarrassed. Mentally patting himself on the back, Steve scooped a still giggling Clint into his arms.

“Alright, boys, I think it’s time for a snack and to play some more.”

“Yeah, Daddy! Can we have oreos?” 

“I think some veggie bugs, first,” Steve said as he took Bucky’s hand and took them all into the kitchen, “But then eight oreos each.”

“But I’m hungry!” Clint whined. 

“Well then you can eat a lot of bugs,” Steve said, smiling and putting Clint down in his seat. Bucky, still quiet and withdrawn, sat down across from Clint and drew his knees up to his chest. As Steve passed by him on the way to the fridge, he rubbed a fond hand through Bucky’s hair. Bucky looked up at him and Steve gave him a reassuring smile. 

Slowly, tentatively, Bucky warmed up again, following Clint’s lead as the boy chattered through his snack (sending crumbs everywhere). Thankfully, Bucky continued to chew with his mouth shut.  _ Hopefully Bucky wouldn’t pick up too many habits of little Clint, _ Steve thought ruefully as he wiped his boy’s mouth while Clint bounced in place. 

The afternoon passed surprisingly peacefully. Bucky and he added the final star to his chart and agreed that he could have his extra long bath that night, after Clint had taken his and gone to bed. Clint had momentarily whined about going to bed earlier than Bucky before he got distracted by the dinosaurs. Again, it took Bucky some time to warm up to the activity, but an hour after snack he was playing peacefully beside Clint while Steve lounged on the couch, grateful for a moment to recapture his composure after what had already been a long, exhausting day. And it wasn’t even over yet. 

The boys occupied themselves for a while longer before Clint demanded Steve get up and play with them. Clint had been leading the two of them through some complicated game that had included a magic forest, dinosaurs, and people that spoke only backwards. Steve hadn’t completely followed, mostly enjoying the way that Bucky had been playing so cooperatively with Clint. Once Steve was playing, Clint was content to play for another half hour and Bucky had broken off from the game to explore the dollhouse and dolls independently, which Steve was thrilled to see. 

 

Noticing wiggles from both boys and the time, Steve apologetically called the play to a halt. 

“Alright boys, time for a potty break and then we have to cook dinner.”

“Nuh! Wanna play, Daddy!” 

Steve was just about to insist, when Bucky’s voice, tiny and timid, said, “Want to play, Steve.”

Steve melted. 

“Okay, you can play some more,” Clint brightened and started to cheer, “ _ After _ a potty break. I can cook dinner while you two play, but Bucky I’ll have to be in the other room, okay?”

Bucky nodded cautiously, “I can come get you if I need?”

“Anytime, bud.” Steve got to his feet and helped Bucky to his. 

“Don’t gotta potty!” Clint insisted, wiggling on his knees as he slid a dinosaur under the couch, which was serving as a cave. 

“Well, everybody’s got to try even if they don’t feel like they have to.” Steve insisted. 

“Nuhuh!” Clint hollered, as Steve scooped him up. Bucky was staring again. Steve ignored the hollering as he led Bucky into the bedroom. He stood in the doorway, Clint still hollering that he didn’t have to go. Under the commotion, Steve asked, “Is it alright if Clint and I stand right here while you go, or do you want us to come all the way in?”

Bucky looked up at Clint, who was now pouting and whining that ‘he was a big boy and he could tell when he had to go and he didn’t need a potty break.’ 

“You can stay here.” Bucky slipped into the bathroom. The toilet was blocked by the tub from the door, giving him a bit of privacy while still knowing that Steve was close. 

Clint whined until Bucky turned the sink on to wash his hand, when he suddenly froze and scrambled for the ground, yelling, “Gotta go!” 

Steve rolled his eyes as he followed Clint into the bathroom. Bucky was staring with startled eyes as Clint danced in spot, trying to get his pants and pull ups down. Steve stepped up behind his boy and pulled both down. Clint sat to pee (as he often did when he was little). Once on the toilet he looked up at the two of them and blushed. Bucky had covered his eyes and was blushing too. The whole scene made Steve want to laugh  _ so bad _ . But he was a daddy and he sucked it in and led Bucky to wait in the doorway. 

Clint emerged a moment later, looking sheepish. 

Steve didn’t comment, though he stored the memory away for a bad day. 

“Alright boys, you go play. I’m gonna cook dinner now.” To his surprise (and Bucky’s by the look of it) Clint grabbed Bucky’s hand and pulled Bucky after him into the living room, saying “C’mon, let me show you my circus.”

Bucky didn’t freak out or panic, so Steve counted it a win and left them to it. He could hear them playing (mostly Clint, of course, but occasionally Bucky’s quiet voice too) from the kitchen. It was reassuring in a way that Steve had never felt before. 

He always found it reassuring to have Clint close, big or little. But with Bucky back...well, Bucky had always been aligned with safety in Steve’s mind. So having them both there, together, safe, relatively whole, it made Steve feel happier than he had since coming out of the ice. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, kudoing, and commenting, my friends! The comments on Friday's chapter blew me away. Thank you so much!

 

They made it all the way to bedtime without another meltdown. After dinner Steve put on an episode of Magic School Bus, which kept both boys rapt while Steve cleaned up the kitchen and put toys away. 

After the episode finished, Steve announced, “Okay Clint, time for your bath.” Clint perked up immediately - he loved baths. “We have a couple choices right now. Bucky, you can stay in here and watch another episode. I’ll leave all the doors open and you just shout if you need me. You can sit in the bedroom and read for a bit. If Clint says it is alright you can also bring your book into the bathroom - but only if Clint says it’s okay.” Steve looked down at Clint. 

“Um, maybe after I’m in the bath,” Clint said shyly, “And the bubbles are high.”

“Sounds fair to me. What do you think, Buck?”

Steve waited patiently while Bucky thought. Clint didn’t wait nearly as patiently, wiggling on the couch, but he didn’t try to force a decision. 

“I think...I think the bedroom is okay. But, with the door open, right?”

“Of course,” Steve agreed. “Nice choosing, bud.”

“Good choosing,” Clint said with a serious little nod. Bucky looked perplexed but Steve tucked it away as one of the cutest things he had ever seen. After getting Bucky settled on the bed with one of his approved books (Bucky didn’t have the attention span for truly adult novels, and any books he read had to be carefully screened for triggers) Steve started up the bathtub and pulled out Clint’s toys. Clint wiggled out of his clothes, leaving them in a messy pile on the floor. Steve rolled his eyes fondly as he tossed Clint’s clothes in the hamper and the pull up in the trash. By the time he turned around, Clint was already chest deep in bubbles and had a couple of his toy boats zooming around as he made little motor noises. 

Bathing Clint was an exercise in getting him to sit still so that Steve didn’t get soap in Clint’s eyes. But it was also one of his favorite times with little Clint. Clint was playful, relaxed, and happy in the bath and responded to Steve with little giggles and shrieks as Steve teasingly cleaned him with a loofah shaped like an elephant. Clint came out of the bath smelling clean and little, body warm and wet and safe in Steve’s arms, and Steve always finished knowing that he had done a good job being a daddy, at least for the last 20 minutes. He lay Clint on the floor to diaper him.

Clint gazed thoughtfully up at him, finally asking, “Does Bucky really wear diapers to bed like me?”

“He does,” Steve said, spreading a little diaper cream over the spots that were still red from earlier. He should probably wake up in the night to change Clint, Steve thought. Diaper rash was no fun for anyone. (And especially awkward for Phil.) 

“Do his have spaceships on ‘em?” Clint asked, looking down at his own diaper as Steve smoothed the tapes closed.

“No, they’re just white, like your old ones.” Steve said, grabbing Clint’s favorite footy pajamas, which had a little tail and a hood with ears to make him look like a puppy. Steve had a sudden mental image of Clint in his puppy pajamas and Bucky in a matching kitten set curled together in bed, and oh my god, he was so screwed if Bucky wasn’t little.

“Oh.” Clint said thoughtfully. “He could borrow mine. Spaceships are better.”

Steve held back a chuckle and smiled at his boy. “You can ask him if he’d like spaceships better, but Bucky wears a different size than you so we’d have to order them special.”

“Okay. I’ll ask!” Clint said cheerfully, scrambling to his feet as soon as Steve was done and running into the bedroom, already yelling, “Hey Bucky, d’you want diapers with spaceships on them like mine?!”

There was something pretty magical about how quickly little Clint could adapt to a new situation, Steve thought with a fond smile, draining the bath and starting it anew for Bucky. That done, Steve followed Clint into the bedroom. He was not shocked that Clint had unzipped his pjs to show Bucky his diaper. 

Of course, big Clint would probably spend the next two days in a state of prolonged embarrassment, but that’s why they played so often. Clint needed to remember that he didn’t have to judge himself so harshly. 

Bucky looked mildly overwhelmed and definitely befuddled. 

“Clint, zip up your pjs and climb into bed, lovebug. Let Bucky breathe.”

“He can decide tomorrow,” Clint said agreeably. Steve laughed. 

“Bucky might want to keep his regular diapers,” Steve said as he located Clint’s blanket and tucked it up under the covers with him. 

“White is boring,” Clint said around his thumb. 

“Different people have different opinions. Now, why don’t you snuggle down and JARVIS can tell you a couple stories while Bucky gets his bath and then I will read you one story and it will be time for bed.”

JARVIS made an excellent babysitter - he was infinitely patient and his voice never got dry and scratchy when reading stories. 

Bucky was soothed by the bath the same way he always was, though he had a slightly more thoughtful look on his face than usual. 

“Busy day, huh?” Steve prompted as he carefully washed Bucky’s empty shoulder joint. Though Bucky couldn’t scar in the typical way, the skin there was oddly mottled and thinner in some places and much thicker in others. The thin skin could break, revealing either bone or metal, while the thicker places could get red and irritated from chafing. The bath let Steve check the skin each night. 

“Yeah.”

“Do you have questions about today?” Steve asked, moving on to the other shoulder. Bucky was staring at Clint’s pile of bath toys and stayed silent for several long minutes. Steve stayed quiet too and continued his gentle washing, letting Bucky think.

“How did you know Clint was little, like that?” Bucky asked, a little blush on his face.  _ That was faster than expected _ , Steve thought. 

“He told me,” Steve said honestly. 

“Oh.” Bucky said. He paused and let Steve gently shampoo his hair. “How did Clint know?”

“Clint read about it on the internet some, and he met someone who was like him and taught him about it.” Steve said as he poured clean water over Bucky’s head. 

Bucky fell silent again. 

“How come I ate four frogs and Clint only had two?”

This too was a part of how Bucky seemed to process things now, moving from one idea to the next without an obvious connection. 

“Your body burns more energy that an average person. Mine does too. To give them that energy, we have to feed them more.”

Several more minutes passed in silence as Steve finished his cleaning and moved on to a gentle, therapeutic massage that he usually did in bed to help Bucky fall asleep.  

“Is Clint a superhero too?” Steve wondered where Bucky had heard that word,  _ superhero.  _ Steve had never liked it. How was any hero supposed to be more super than another? By definition, all heros were important.  But that was more complicated than Steve wanted to get, with Bucky soft and malleable in his hands, genuinely relaxed and calm while he thought through his day. 

“Yes. He’s called Hawkeye.”

Bucky nodded and Steve ran his thumb down Bucky’s spine firmly, feeling muscles slide back into place.  

That seemed to be all Bucky had to say at that point, which was fine by Steve who helped him out of the tub and readied him for bed. He wasn’t surprised to find that Clint had fallen asleep listening to JARVIS tell stories. He also wasn’t surprised that when he turned around from changing into his own pjs, Bucky had tucked his thumb into his mouth and was giving it a few experimental sucks. Steve said nothing and climbed into bed between his two boys. Once Bucky’s breaths had deepened to those of sleep, helped along by the sleep aid he’d taken before his bath, Steve allowed himself to drift off, feeling completely exhausted.

 

Both boys slept later than normal the next morning. Bucky’s sleep aid did its job and kept the nightmares at bay for another night and Phil had been honest about Clint’s lack of sleep. By the time both boys were dressed for the day, fed, had played a bit, and Clint was given a little time to get big, Phil was knocking on the door. 

Bucky vanished behind the couch as Steve opened the door. 

“How did it go?” Phil asked immediately, as Steve handed over Clint’s bag. 

“Better than expected. But big Clint might have a little retrospective embarrassment.” Phil cocked an eyebrow but nodded without asking more. Steve and Phil both left it up to Clint to share (or not) what happened when he was little, unless there was something urgent that needed to be addressed. Steve’s spare room opened, and Clint emerged. As predicted, he looked a little flushed and fidgety, but he leaned in for a kiss from Phil happily enough. Steve gave him a quick hug. 

“Monday?” Phil confirmed. Steve nodded. Between the three of them, they had decided that Clint should play three times a week for the next while, at least until he was a little more stable when big. 

“I’ll let you know if anything changes,” Steve said as the two men got onto the elevator. He watched until the doors were closed and went back in. Bucky had moved onto the couch, though he still looked a little shaky. 

“Hey buddy.”

“Just us now?”

Steve smiled, “Yeah. Clint will come back on Monday and spend the night again.”

“‘Kay.” Bucky mumbled, rubbing his fist across his mouth. 

“I’m gonna take a quick shower. Will you be alright out here?” Steve asked.

“Think so,” Bucky said quietly. 

Bucky was not all right, Steve discovered after showering and changing and re entering the living room. Bucky had pulled all of Clint’s books off their hidden shelves and torn them into pieces. The blocks had been dumped all over the floor, and many of them showed the effects of a super soldier meltdown too. 

Steve froze. Bucky was standing in the middle of the mess, chest heaving and glaring at Steve. 

“I hate him and I hate you! It’s stupid. Why would a grown man act like a little kid? He’s pathetic and a loser and I never, ever want to see him again!” Bucky screamed. 

Steve turned and closed the door and slid down the wall. His fists clenched. He felt so angry, more angry than he could remember feeling in a long, long time. He was afraid of what he might say or do if he went out there. Those things belonged to him and Clint and they were precious. They were two years of memories and building relationships and finding peace when everything else in Steve’s life was a mess, and Bucky had ripped it all apart. 

Steve fumbled for his phone and without really knowing what he was doing, called Sam. 

“Steve?” Sam answered promptly. “I’m at work, man. Can I call you back?”

Steve choked back words. Or vomit. Or tears. He didn’t rightly know. 

Sam’s voice turned confused and concerned. 

“Steve, what’s goin’ on?”

“Bucky - he. He destroyed my things. And, and I’m so angry.” Steve admitted, voice quiet. He could hear Sam’s breath, even and steady, and some background noise from the VA. He could hear Bucky’s heavy breathing and more ripping from the living room. 

“Okay, okay. You did the right thing, calling me. Where are you? Where is Bucky?”

“He’s in the living room. I went out there after I showered and he had...I just turned around and closed the door.” Steve admitted, feeling ashamed and weak and tired.

“That’s good. It sounds like you needed to remove yourself from the situation.” Sam’s voice was so steady, and Steve sort of wanted to scream. He wanted to run forever or punch until his fists bled and kept bleeding. “Look, we talked about this. You have to take care of yourself if you’re going to take care of Bucky. I talked to Thor last week, and he’s been practicing the restraint I taught you. You need to get out of there for a bit, go for a run or down to the gym. I’m texting Thor right now and he will be up there in a minute.”

Steve nodded, remembered that Sam couldn’t see him and said, “Thank you.”

“Any time, man. I gotta run now, but call me later, yeah?”

“I will.” For once, it felt good to have someone else to take care of the situation, to lay out a game plan that all Steve had to do was follow. Most of the time, Steve took care of himself by taking care of others. But taking care of the team - and even taking care of Clint - was different than the kind of care Bucky needed. Mindlessly, Steve changed into workout clothes. He didn’t emerge from his room until JARVIS announced Thor’s arrival. Bucky was still in the middle of the chaos, ripping a page of a book into tiny little pieces. Absent mindedly, Steve wondered how Bucky could cause so much destruction, but not button his own buttons. 

He opened the door, and Bucky froze, still as a statue. 

“Hi, Thor.”

“Hello Steven!” Thor boomed, “Your friend Samuel has informed me that you require assistance!”

“Yeah,” Steve said, voice quiet and empty. “Could you just stay with Bucky for an hour? Maybe two?”

Thor began to reply, when Bucky stood and screamed, rushing over to Steve.

“Steve, no! Don’t, I’ll be good, I’ll clean it all up, I promise I will. I won’t be bad ever again.”

Steve turned and looked at his friend, Bucky grabbed onto Steve’s t-shirt with his one hand. 

“It’s not forever, Bucky, I just need a quick break. I’ll be back.”

It was the hardest thing Steve had ever done to let Thor gently pull Bucky back from him and leave, Bucky’s screams and cries in the background.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of what Steve is going through in this chapter is caregiver burnout, which you can read more about [here.](http://www.helpguide.org/articles/stress/caregiving-stress-and-burnout.htm)
> 
> There will be an everyone deserves a chance one-shot up on Wednesday.   
> I guess I'm writing everyone deserves a chance ficlets on [tumblr](https://imdefinitelyyourcat.tumblr.com/) now?


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday, friends! As always thank you for reading, kudoing, and commenting!

Steve returned exactly an hour and a half later, after a short but intense workout, a quick shower, and lunch with the team. They’d all been glad to see him, and Bruce had actually gone and pulled Tony out of his workshop just to see Steve. Natasha had done that thing where she briefly leaned in to his side. It was her version of a hug, and it made Steve pretty happy. It was good to know that his team and friends missed him as much as he missed them, even if it did make him feel a little guilty. 

Clint had also been shooting Steve little guilty looks over lunch, so Steve had taken an extra minute to firmly tell Clint that what was going on with Bucky and him had nothing to do with Clint being over. (Not exactly true, but it wouldn’t do anyone any good for Clint to beat himself and it would do Bucky good to have Clint there, as hard as it was in the short term.)

When returned to his quarters and hesitantly pushed open the door, he was surprised to find his living room looking livable again. The torn books had been stacked up with what, upon closer inspection, turned out to be a list of the damaged items in Thor’s looping script. It took him a minute longer to find Bucky and Thor, the latter crouched outside Steve’s bedroom closet gently trying to coax the former out. Thor looked up when Steve entered. 

“Hello, Steven!” He said, with a kind smile. “How was your aft-”

That was as far as he got before Bucky came shooting out of the closet. He looked like he was going to barrel straight into Steve, but paused at arm’s length. Steve opened his arms, allowing Bucky to launch himself into them. Bucky’s pants were wet, which must have been what led to the closet hiding. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Stevie, I’ll fix it, I promise, don’t go away again, please, please. I’ll be so good, you’ll see, I’ll be so good.” Steve ignored the litany, but squeezed tighter as he looked over Bucky’s shoulder at Thor.

“How did it go?” He asked. 

“I had to restrain James for half an hour. He was very distressed at your leaving and attempted to injure himself, though he did not try to hurt me.” Steve nodded, saddened but not shocked. “Once he calmed, we cleaned the living room to prepare for your return. James was of great assistance. He urinated upon himself shortly before your arrival and fled to hide in the closet.”

“Thanks, Thor, really. It was a huge help,” Steve said, tucking Bucky a little closer. 

“You are feeling more yourself?” Thor asked, looking down at Steve seriously. Thor was one of the few people who could make Steve feel small these days. It was always a bit strange when Thor looked down at him like this, fixing his powerful gaze on Steve. 

“I am, thank you.”

“Anytime, my friend!” Thor said. 

“Actually, could we plan for Tuesday afternoon?” Steve asked spontaneously, realizing how much steadier he felt after the break. Bucky shook in his arms and whimpered, “No, no, no.” 

Thor looked down at the both of them with a sad smile. “Of course. I am glad to offer any assistance that I can. Do not be afraid to call on me if you have need!”

“Thank you Thor, really.” He watched Thor leave and felt the weight of responsibility settle back on his shoulders. He felt a little more ready to hold it now. 

“Steve, please don’t go again, please. I promise I’ll be good. I won’t ever break things, and I can just stay in your spare room when - when Clint is here. I’ll be good, I won’t be in your way, I promise.” Bucky’s face was covered in tears and snot. 

“I’m not mad, Bucky. It’s alright. Look, I think we should get you cleaned up and then we can talk, okay? I’m not going anywhere right now.” Bucky nodded, though his breathing was hitched and he was trembling too hard to walk on his own, so Steve had to lift him and carry him into the bathroom. 

He stripped him in silence, the running water of the bathtub and Bucky’s soft sobs the only sounds. He tried to use gentle touch and reassuring familiarity to ease Bucky’s tension, not sure he knew which words to say yet. Bucky did seem to calm during the bath time routine, trembles subsiding and sobs petering out to soft breathing. Bucky also didn’t speak, at least until Steve held out a pair of underwear for him to step into. 

“W-w-want pr-pr’tection,” Bucky said, so quietly Steve almost couldn’t make it out. “D-don’t wanna m-make a m-m-mess.”

Steve leaned back and stared up at Bucky. 

“You know I don’t care about that, Buck.” Bucky half shrugged and half shook his head, but Bucky had made the request so Steve wasn’t going to push too hard, even though he wasn’t sure Bucky was doing it for the right reasons. He swapped the boxers for one of Bucky’s diapers and quickly had him dressed again. He set him on the bed, figuring the living room would be too much for both of them right now. 

“Okay, Bucky, we need to talk about earlier now.” Bucky nodded quickly, fingers rubbing over his lips anxiously. Steve reached over and grabbed a stress ball from the bedside table and gave it to Bucky, just to give him something to do with the tension. It seemed unlikely that Bucky would try sucking his thumb again in that moment. They end up sitting cross legged across from each other, the way they used to when they were kids in Brooklyn, and Steve hurt, hard, for a moment. 

But Bucky was here with him. Not dead at the bottom of some canyon, or frozen in a HYDRA warehouse, or out on an assassination, or being tortured. 

“First, I want to say that I’m sorry that I had to leave so suddenly and you didn’t get to meet Thor before I left you with him. I was...very disappointed and angry, and I needed a little time to myself.” Bucky whimpered, a broken little thing. “I want you to tell me about why you got so mad and destroyed Clint’s books and toys, and why you said the things you did. I know that’s a lot of talking, so I’m going to give you plenty of time. But, Bucky? I love you, and I will always love you, even if I get mad or disappointed or need to leave for a while. And I will always do my best to come back to you. Okay? Can you repeat all of that for me in your own words?”

Bucky took a long time, pulling and pushing on the stress ball as he thought. “You’re sorry you had to leave. You left because you were angry. You want me to tell you why I got mad and did...did those things. And you love me.” Bucky was shaking pretty hard, but he didn’t stutter or stumble over the words. 

“Good job, buddy, thank you. Do you think you can tell me why you got so mad?”

“Dunno,” Bucky admitted, staring at his hand. 

“Just try, okay?”

Bucky didn’t talk for a long time, and Steve sort of wished he had his own stress ball as he tried to stretch his patience through the long moments. He wanted to scoop Bucky up and tell him everything was going to be alright, but he knew they needed to talk about this, otherwise it would just happen again, and he really, really didn’t want that. 

Finally, Bucky started to talk, words slow and quiet, “I got mad cause you love Clint so much. And Clint is perfect. He’s funny and silly and he doesn’t need help all the time. You prolly love Clint a lot more than me.” Bucky paused and ran his fingers over his lips again. “And you’re Clint’s daddy and I - I wa-wanted…”

Steve waited a whole minute before he prompted, “You wanted?”

“I wanted that too,” Bucky whispered, shuddering. “Clint made me want it and I can’t have it.”

“Why can’t you have it?” Steve asked carefully. He had been guessing they would get here, some day. But like most things with Bucky, his friend had surprised him by recognizing what he wanted quickly. But Bucky had always been like that, before the trauma and choice paralysis. He just saw and he knew. Steve would have thought this would be more like picking what to eat or where or go or do was for Bucky, these days. But apparently, some of that old Bucky was in there too. 

“Because. I’m not little like Clint. I’m big, you said so.”

“I’m sorry if I confused you Bucky. Anyone who wants to be can be little,” Bucky looked up in surprise. “It’s just a place you go in your head, where you feel littler and younger. And you act the way that space in your head asks you too.”

Bucky shook his head a little bit, but spoke before Steve could ask any questions, “But my whole head feels different now. I can sort of remember, before, what my head felt like. It’s not like that now.”

“It’s going to take some time, Bucky. But even if your whole head feels littler, that’s okay. There are...there are some people who are little all the time, and that’s okay too.”

Bucky just looked  confused by this new information. 

“It’s okay Bucky, we don’t need to have an answer about this right now. How about this? I know you are thinking about being little. I will be happy whatever your choice is - if you don’t want to be little, if you want to be little some of the time, if you want to be little all the time. All of those choices are okay with me. So you just think about it for as long as you need and let me know when you make a decision, is that okay?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Now about this morning,” Bucky tensed up again, body shaking so bad the bed was vibrating. Steve put his hands on Bucky’s knees and squeezed gently. “I am proud that you cleaned up with Thor. Thank you for doing that. I’m going to order new copies of the things that can’t be fixed and it will all be fine. But, the things you broke are Clint’s too. So when he comes next time, I need you to tell him what happened and that you’re sorry.”

Bucky was shaking his head in time with his trembles.Steve kept up the light pressure on Bucky’s knees. 

“Yes. It’s very important to say sorry when you have done something wrong.”

“Can’t you tell him?” Bucky asked, voice quaking slightly.

“No, Bucky, that’s going to be your job. But I can be right there with you. We can even practice before, if you want.” Ever so slowly Bucky nodded. 

“Good job, bud. One more thing to talk about, and then we can lie down and just rest for a little bit, because we had a long morning, didn’t we?”

Bucky nodded again and inched a little closer to Steve. Steve ran a fond hand up and down the outside of Bucky’s leg and continued. “I really love taking care of you. That feels good to me and I’m really glad that you’re here with me. I know that sometimes you need a lot of help, and that’s okay too. I’m happy to help you. But if I’m going to take good care of you, I also need to take good care of me. For me, that means going for a run or to the gym and being able to see my friends and do my work.” Phil had continued to send him all the work that was Steve’s under their agreement, which Steve usually did after Bucky went to sleep, but there were also meetings to be had and places to be, and he needed to assess his team, in order to keep Phil up to date on evals. 

Bucky was shaking again and he was biting his lip, hard. Steve gently removed Bucky’s lower lip from his mouth. He thought about prompting Bucky to suck his thumb, but decided that was too much for the moment. “And sometimes, I need to be alone or with other people to do those things. Sometimes, it might work for people to come here, if you feel okay with that. But other times, Thor is going to come stay with you while I go out for a bit.”

“No, nononono. Please no. St-steve I’ll let you do whatever you need and you can bring whoever you want, please.”

“I’m sorry, Bucky. I know this is going to be hard, but it’s important so that we can both be taken care of. I think that what I will do is set up a schedule with Thor. We can put it on a piece of paper, and you can see when Thor will be coming. It won’t be like this morning.”

“Please no,” Bucky whimpered, tears starting to drop down his face.

“It’s not a punishment,” Steve said quietly, heart breaking. He carefully scooched closer to Bucky so their knees were touching.”I think you could actually have a lot of fun. Thor is my friend and he has lots of good stories and he is very kind and I trust him very much.”

“I just want you,” Bucky cried. Steve scooped him up into his lap, like he was Clint, and settled his back against the headboard.

“I know, Bucky. But there are a lot of wonderful people I want you to meet. And they’re all going to love you just like I do, bud.”

“Not as much as you,” Bucky argued, head resting on Steve’s chest, fingers edging toward his mouth. 

“No one could ever love you as much as I do,” Steve agreed. It didn’t take long for Bucky and Steve to fall into an exhausted slumber, clutching each other tightly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you Monday for the next chapter (only two to go)!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for reading, kudoing, and commenting! For those of you who have come over to tumblr to ask questions or message me, that's been lovely!   
> So there's a big surprise twist in this chapter that I'm kinda nervous about. Let me know what you think, please.

As promised, Steve sat down that afternoon and drew up a schedule. Clint came Friday-Saturday, Monday-Tuesday and Wednesday-Thursday. Steve called Thor and together they planned for two hours in the afternoon, after Clint had left, Tuesday and Thursdays. He put the schedule up in the bathroom, as Thor (nor any of the Avengers) knew about Clint’s little side and would wonder about Clint’s regular visits. 

With the schedule in place, things got a little easier. Steve rarely lay awake at night worrying about Clint or his friends and with some regular exercise, Steve felt more centered. The first couple times Thor came were just about as horrible as Steve expected. There were either tears, panic, and begging or there were threats, anger, and violent tantrums. But Thor always worked some sort of magic, and by the time Steve got back Bucky was always calm and waiting by the door for him with a hug and an apology. After two weeks, when Steve left Bucky would cry a bit but, according to Thor, soon calmed. It was doing them both good, Steve thought. 

If the afternoons with Thor were beneficial, the nights with Clint were doubly so. After the (mildly traumatic) apology, Clint and Bucky were soon thick as thieves. Clint would pull Bucky behind him like a puppy dog all over the apartment, showing him his favorite toys and games. It filled a hole in Steve that Steve hadn’t even known was there, to see the two of them together like that. And they were able to understand each other in a way that Steve, no matter how hard he tried, just couldn’t manage. 

 

_ “Steve,” Bucky said quietly. It was Friday morning and he and Steve were waiting for Clint again. It had been a week since Clint’s first visit since Bucky had come home and the disaster of an afternoon that had followed. Last Steve heard, Bucky was still thinking about being little and Steve wasn’t going to push it. For the moment they were sitting on the couch and Steve was giving Bucky a gentle massage. The muscles of his back tended to get knotted up due to the uneven weight distribution of his arm.  _

_ “Yeah bud? Steve asked at a similar volume, rolling his thumb over a particularly tough know.  _

_ “How come, uh. How come Clint - I -” Frustration was building in Bucky’s voice.  _

_ “It’s alright, Bucky. Take a minute. The words will come.” Bucky sighed through his nose, but paused in his attempted question, leaning a little into Steve’s massage. Steve waited patiently as Bucky worked through his thoughts and questions, continuing his massage.  _

_ “How come Clint needs protection, at night, like me?” Bucky managed, frustration clear in his voice. Bucky could tell when the words didn’t come out right, but he couldn’t always make them come out the way he wanted. Luckily, Steve was pretty good at reading his friend. He thought a moment - not sure how much Clint would want him to share.  _

_ “A couple years ago,” Steve finally said, fingers running down Bucky’s spine, “Clint was controlled by a - well, a bad guy, I guess. Loki is what he’s called. Loki controlled Clint’s mind and body and made him do things.” Bucky shook. Hard. Steve pressed his fingers in a little deeper, hoping they would ground Bucky in the moment. He waited until Bucky took a couple shuddery breaths. “And he’s had a hard time staying dry since then.” _

_ “Controlled - like me?” Bucky asked, voice breathless. Steve didn’t know whether to smile or cry. The similarities between his boys had struck him more than once. And he knew the similarities had been hitting Clint hard too.  _

_ “Not quite the same way, but. Yes, he was controlled and made to do things against his will.” _

_ “Oh,” Bucky whispered, chest skipping up and down a minute. “Like me,” he repeated, wonderingly. Steve brought his hands up to Bucky’s shoulders and squeezed tightly.  _

_ “Yeah, bud. Just like you.” They sat in silence, Steve continuing his massage. Bucky seemed thoughtful, to Steve’s eye, and when Clint’s knock came at the door, he even sat up a little bit, looking almost excited. Steve stood up and walked over to the door.  _

_ Clint had come up by himself today and he already looked soft and little. Steve gave him a big hug, even though he’d seen him yesterday. Clint leaned into the contact gratefully, rubbing his face into Steve’s chest. Steve smiled.  _

_ “Hey buddy! How’s it going?” _

_ Clint shrugged, sending Steve’s daddy instincts into a spiral. He pulled back so he could look into Clint’s face. Clint’s eyes were dark, deep shadows in the delicate skin underneath. His lips were creased into a frown.  _

_ “Baby?” Steve pushed quietly. _

_ “Just- had a bad nightmare last night, Daddy.” Clint admitted, sliding his thumb into his mouth.  _

_ “Oh no. I’m sorry! Why don’t we go sit on the couch and you can tell me all about it.” Clint shrugged but Steve was a big believer in airing your troubles so they didn’t stick and fester in your mind. He’d let himself do that too many times over the years and he wouldn’t let his boys do the same.  _

_ He sat down on the couch next to Bucky, whose bright expression from before had faded to concern and apprehension.  _

_ “Alright, lovebug. Tell me all about it.” Clint was quiet a moment, but he knew that Steve would keep pressing and that he thought it was important, so he sighed and spoke.  _

_ “Was Loki,” Clint whispered. “He got me again and he made me hurt you and Phil and Natasha and then he made me wake up. I hadta go to jail, Daddy an’ there wasn’t no one to take care’o me, and they’d beat me up cause I wet, and I was wet when I got up and Phil hadta help me change the sheets cause I was too shaky and I’m just no good Daddy, I’m no good.” Clint had started to cry and Bucky was trembling beside Steve. Steve put a careful arm around his shoulders, squeezing reassuringly. _

_ Steve’s heart broke a little. “You’re so good, Clint. You’re my wonderful, perfect, brilliant boy. I’m sorry you had such a bad nightmare. Loki is locked up far away from here and Daddy’s not gonna let him get you again, okay?” _

_ Clint sniffled and cuddled closer but didn’t answer. Steve never felt qualified to help his boy, not to the extent that he thought Clint deserved.  _

_ “I dream the ice,” Bucky’s voice surprised Steve and he flicked his eyes over to his friend. Bucky had his gaze fixed on his knees, his hand picking at his sweat pants. Clint was staring at Bucky too. “That the ice- and they make me hurt. And I can’t stop. S’all me - I’m bad, cause I hurt them, all those, them. I hurt them so bad.” Bucky was shaking and Steve hauled him even closer. He wasn’t sure what to say to any of this, didn’t feel like he had the words to make any of it okay, didn’t think those words existed.  _

_ Clint swallowed and rubbed his tears and snot away on Steve’s t-shirt and said, “I thought that too. That I was bad cause it was my body. But it’s not - it wasn’t my fault. Loki used my body. It wasn’t me.” _

_ Bucky looked up with wide teary eyes at Clint and Steve swallowed tightly, looking at his two broken boys, who’d had their bodies and their consent ripped from them with violence, taking the one thing that was supposed to be safe from them - their own minds and bodies.  _

_ “That’s right Clint,” Steve said when it became clear that Bucky wasn’t going to be able to manage a response. “And it’s true for both of you. You had people control what you did and anything that happened when they were doing that was their fault, not yours’.” _

_ “It hurts,” Bucky whimpered, starting to cry too. Steve ached with the pain of it and allowed himself a tear too.  _

_ “I know. They hurt you really bad. Both of you were hurt and that isn’t fair. But I’m here and I’m going to try my best to help you start feeling better, okay?” Both boys nodded into him and Steve sighed a breath of relief and of stress, because he was so glad his boys trusted him but he wasn’t always sure he could live up to his promises. _

_ “And we’re the same,” Clint whispered, looking at Bucky, eyes wide, cautious, and hopeful “We got hurt the same, so we can - we can help each other.” _

_ To Steve’s surprise, Bucky leaned across his lap and put his single arm around Clint and hugged for all he was worth. Clint’s arms came up around Bucky and hugged back, just as tightly. Steve put his arms around the pair and hugged them in too, letting the tears come now.  _

It was only a few weeks after that before Steve thought that Bucky might be ready to venture out into the rest of the tower. Clint and Bucky started to speak more and more of their shared traumas, and it seemed to ease something in both of them. Bucky settled and grew more confident and Steve was eager to bring together the parts of his life. There was only one problem. 

Bucky was decidedly  _ little _ most of the time. 

The decision, despite Bucky’s initial confusion and upset, did not take long to make. It had been only a week later, in fact. Steve had been showering before bed (they had finger painted after dinner) and had left the two boys on the bed with a couple toys and books, already changed into their pjs and ready for bed. Neither of them had been facing the bathroom when Steve emerged, still toweling his hair dry, but he could hear every word. 

_ “Clint...how’d you know you were little?” _

_ Clint shrugged, turning a page in a wordless picture book. “Cause I wanted little things, I guess. Someone to take care of me. And my blankie. And to play with toys. Stuff grown ups don’t want.” _

_ “Oh,” Bucky said, studying the doll he had held in his hand. He whispered, “I think maybe I want those too.” _

_ “Steve’s a good Daddy.” Clint said, voice a little older than it normally was. “He’d take good care of you.” _

_ “I don’t wanna take him from you,” Bucky said shyly.  _

_ Clint paused a minute and rubbed his thumb over his lips. Finally he said, “Daddy loves a lot of people. He can love both of us.”  _

_ Steve hadn’t been able to contain himself and grabbed both of his boys into a giant hug, peppering them with kisses.  _

_ “I love you both so very, very much.” Steve told them. _

Of course, Steve had soon followed with a more structured conversation with both his boys - to make sure they did things right. But since then, Bucky had been falling into headspace a lot. While his moods remained just as volatile in this state, he tended be less violent and less likely to hurt himself (though just as likely to destroy everything around him, if the mood struck - Steve had invested in some childproof locks that required two hands to open. He only felt mildly guilty about it.) But being little seemed to increase Bucky’s confidence and security. He allowed Steve more space and was quicker to run off with Clint and to ask for things that he wanted. 

Bucky’s mental age seemed to vary about as much as Clint’s did, though when Clint was around he was always just a little bit younger. Steve thought that was probably the cutest thing  _ ever _ , but he knew better than to say so to either of his boys. Clint took to being a big brother like a fish to water. There were moments of jealousy and Steve knew that as soon as he could, he needed to make sure that Clint got some proper alone time with him. But Clint loved being able to boss Bucky around and show him the ropes of being little, and he could be unfailingly sweet and kind to Bucky too. Little Clint also had a way of pointing things out that Steve didn’t always see. 

_ “Daddy, _ ”  _ Clint said one day, pulling at Steve’s sleeve. _

_ “Yes?” Steve asked, looking up from his book.  _

_ “You need to get Bucky a pacifier.” _

_ “Oh?” Steve said, cocking an eyebrow and putting his book down. He looked over at Bucky, sitting in the middle of the room. He was trying to play with his dolls and suck his thumb at the same time. “Oh. Yes, I see what you mean.” _

_ Clint nodded very seriously. _

_ “Would you like to help me pick some out?” Steve offered, reaching for his laptop.  _

Of course, Clint had. Bucky had been embarrassed by the pacifiers at first (probably because Clint didn’t use them) but once he realized he could play and suck, he was pretty much sold. It was rare to find Bucky without a pacifier, at the very least in his pocket or hand. Steve found himself carrying one too - just in case. 

All of it was wonderful.  Steve loved his wonderful, perfect little boys. The problem was that little Bucky couldn’t keep a secret to save his life. And since little Bucky was around most of the time, Steve was afraid that if he met the rest of the team, it would only be a matter of time before Clint’s secret came out. 

He worried about it for over a month before quite suddenly, the matter was taken out of his hands. 

 

Sam called on Sunday afternoon, while Bucky was down for his nap. 

“Hey Sam!”

“Hey, man. We gotta talk.”

That didn’t sound good, not at all, Steve thought. Sam was supposed to be coming in that night for a visit - was he not going to be able to make it? Because Steve had been looking forward to seeing Sam, who was a friend removed from the chaos of the rest of Steve’s life.

“What’s up?” Steve asked slowly. 

“Look, I’m downstairs. I caught an early train. And all anyone can talk about is that you’re doing  _ regressive therapy _ with Bucky and-”

“What?” Steve demanded, heart in his throat. 

“That is not an approved type of therapy, man.” Sam’s voice sounded mildly scolding and disapproving, which always made Steve feel about five. 

“I’m not  _ doing _ therapy for Bucky, where did they even get that idea?”

“Apparently Thor noticed that Bucky was acting particularly young and he was confused, so he asked Pepper, who had heard about using regression in therapy and Pepper said something to Tony, who of course -”

“Told everyone.” Steve sighed.  _ Shit. Shitshitshit. Thank god Clint was out of town this weekend with Phil.  _

“Yeah. Look, Steve, I’m serious, there is hardly any research out there about actively using regression in therapy. I mean, it’s one thing if someone regressed on their own, but Steve that happens because of a different kind of trauma. Regression therapy isn’t -.”

“We’re  _ not  _ doing therapy,” Steve insisted. “We’re - we’re  _ age playing _ .” He admitted, voice heavy. He just needed off this call so that he could call Clint and Phil before they got back in and heard all of this and panicked.

“Oh.” Sam sounded surprised. Which, well, fair. “How did you even know about that?”

_ That’s going to be the million dollar question,  _ Steve thought sullenly. 

But Sam, at the very least, could be trusted not to spread anything around, at least until Steve figured out what he was going to do about this mess. He hadn’t been at all prepared to handle this. He could tell them it was just Bucky, of course he could, but Bucky would say something or do something and they would put the pieces together. His team was smart and observant and knew each other way too well.  _ Shit.  _

“I - I’ve had regular age play partners before.” Steve finally said. Not a lie, but not the full truth either. “Bucky found out and wanted to try it. And, well, it seems to help. A lot.”

“Oh.” Sam said, voice inscrutable. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Look, could you just - keep this to yourself until I decide what I want to say to everyone?” 

“Of course. Uh, let me know if you need anything.”

“I will.”

And they hung up. 

Steve gave himself exactly thirty seconds before calling Phil and Clint.

 

And that’s how, two nights later, he found himself standing in front of the entire team (and Pepper and Sam). He had called the meeting later than he normally would, to make sure that Bucky would be out for the count. JARVIS was keeping an eye out, but Bucky rarely woke once he’d taken his sleep aid. 

Steve rubbed his hands on his pants and wondered how to start. 

“So. Uhm, I know you guys heard that Bucky and I are, uh, using regression therapy. That’s not exactly accurate.” Steve paused. Swallowed, rubbed his hands again.

“Just spit it out, Cap.” Tony demanded.

“Bucky and I… we ageplay.”

Tony raised an eyebrow, and drawled, “Kinky.” Steve glared at him. 

Some of the others looked confused, and Thor asked, “I am sorry, what is this ageplay?”

“It’s a type of roleplay.” Steve rubbed his hands through his hair. “Where one person pretends to be a child and the other pretends to be their caregiver. For some people this can be an, uh, a sex thing, but it’s not for me. Or for Bucky.” Steve paused, looking pointedly at Tony who just lifted his hands and smirked. 

“Thank you for telling us this,” Pepper said calmly, “I know it can’t be easy to reveal something so private.”

Steve sort of shrugged. “I want Bucky to meet all of you, and I think he’s ready, but he’s little a lot. Most of the time, really, so I wanted to prepare you.” Steve shifted foot to foot and pointedly did not look at Clint. “The problem is that Bucky knows some things about...well, about members of this team that are meant to be private.”

“What, did you leave our assessments out for him to color on?” Tony said, voice snide but also defensive. “Would have thought you’d be a more responsible Dad, Capsicle.”

“Tony!” Pepper chided. “Let Steve talk.”

“It’s okay Pepper,” Steve said softly. “But Tony, you know that I would never let anyone see your assessments. Not even Phil has access to those.”

Tony shifted uncomfortably but stayed quiet, which, really, was all Steve could ask for. 

“Please continue,” Bruce said gently, “We’re all listening.”

“Yeah. Thanks, Bruce. No, what Bucky knows is not directly related to us as a team. But, he, that is, when Bucky is little he’s not very good at keeping things to himself. And it’s likely that when he met you all he would… well… reveal those things, even if he didn’t mean to. So I, and um, the people involved decided it would be better just to tell you upfront.” Steve fell silent. Someone coughed. 

“Steve, I am sure that we are all quite capable of handling whatever this is.” Natasha said, finally, voice firm. 

“I. Yeah. The thing is, uhm Bucky found out about ageplay because...because I ageplay with Clint.”

The room fell deathly quiet. You could have heard a pin drop. Steve could feel the eyes drifting between him and Clint. 

“Wait, really?” Tony said, voice filled with laughter. “You’re not having us on?”

Steve shook his head. 

“So Clint’s your baby boy? Is that why he doesn’t go -”

“Shut up.” Natasha hissed at Tony. Clint’s face was stricken and drawn, body folded so tight he looked like he was trying to disappear.

“Clint’s ageplay has nothing to do with his status as an agent.” Steve said firmly, confidence firmly back in place. Nobody was allowed to talk about his boy in that way. “Clint faced enormous trauma as you are well aware. I think you, of all people, would know better than to belittle Clint for the ways that affects him.”

“I’m not the one  _ belittling  _ him.” Tony grumbled. 

“Enough,” Steve ordered, furious. Tony’s eyes snapped up to meet his. “If you can’t respect your teammates you know that I am not afraid to bench you.” Tony swallowed, tightly. He knew what came next, and Steve was glad he didn’t have to prompt him. 

“Sorry, Clint. I guess I was just surprised.”

Clint nodded hesitantly and Steve moved on. 

“Does anyone have any questions for me or Clint?”

“How long has this been going on?” Natasha said, voice giving nothing away, which probably meant she was upset that this had been kept from her. Natasha often felt entitled to know what was going on with everyone on the team. It was one way that she showed affection and kept control, but it was difficult when everyone was so private. Steve had been working on it. But, like everything with Tasha, the direct approach rarely worked. 

“About two years,” Steve admitted. Silence fell again. Clint fidgeted in place and Steve really hoped that he’d gone to the bathroom before this meeting. 

Natasha turned to Phil, face fiercely still. “Did you know?” 

Phil nodded. “Clint and Steve informed me as soon as they could.”

Natasha was pissed, Steve could tell, but that would have to be addressed another day.

“Wait, wait, wait…” Tony said. “Does this mean that Capsicle is Agent’s Father-In-Law?”

Steve was about to reprimand him, but Clint burst into laughter. 

“Oh my god, that is the most accurate description of your relationship ever.” He giggled, pointing from Phil to Steve. Smiles were growing on the others’ faces. Phil looked just as awkward as Steve felt. “Like Phil being all cautiously nosy and you being all protective but reasonable and kind of hating each other but not really. Tony, that is the best thing I have ever heard.”

Tony beamed. Steve rubbed his hand over his face and tried to feel relieved that at least everyone was smiling now. He gave them a couple minutes to laugh at his and Phil’s expense, sending Phil an apologetic glance. Phil shrugged back at him. 

“Alright, alright, you’ve all had your laugh. Yes, very funny.” Clint muffled a chuckle with his hand. “Anyway, since everyone is clearly out of questions,” Steve sent a mild glare around. Only Bruce even attempted to look mildly apologetic. Sam just grinned maniacally at Steve.  _ Why was he even friends with these people? _ “I wanted to go ahead and make some plans for Bucky to meet you guys. I want to give him a bit of prep time, so I was thinking next movie night we could watch something child friendly. Clint and I talked about it, and to help Bucky, Clint’s going to try and be little too. We’re not sure how that’s going to go in front of everyone, but we’re gonna give it a try. Is that alright with everyone?” 

Nods went around like a wave. 

“Alright. I’m gonna ask that if you have questions or concerns about Clint and my ageplay that you bring them to me and not Clint. He’s attempting something that makes him pretty vulnerable, and I’m sure that we all want to support him. Bucky’s usually in bed by nine, so feel free to stop by after that and I’ll do what I can.” 

With that, Steve dismissed the meeting, quickly approaching Clint and Phil and drawing them over into the corner. He knew they were being watched, but he’d just have to get used to that. Clint was flushed and still a bit tense, but better than expected. Phil was outwardly inscrutable, as always.

“I think that went pretty well. How are you guys feeling?”

Clint kinda shrugged, a familiar sort of vulnerability around his eyes. 

“Alright,” Phil said. “They took it better than I expected. Certainly better than I did.” Steve chuckled, reminded of the early days of Phil and him figuring this out. It hadn’t always been pretty. Clint gave a half-hearted giggle. Phil and Steve both studied him for a moment. Phil was the one to say, “I think he should go with you tonight. He looks like he needs it.” Clint ducked his head, opened his mouth as if to protest and then closed it. 

“I think that’s a good idea.” Steve agreed. Phil smiled at both of them and gave Clint a quick peck on the cheek, before heading straight for Natasha.  _ Good _ , Steve thought. She needed a bit of reassurance. Steve turned to his boy.

“C’mon bud, let’s go get you tucked up with your brother.” Steve wrapped his arm around Clint’s shoulder and led him the elevator. He felt eyes follow, but if they were hoping to see anything scandalous - well they’d just have to wait til Wednesday. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *hides behind hands*


	8. Chapter 8

Wednesday passed extremely quickly. It seemed as though they had just had breakfast when suddenly Steve was shaking his boys awake from their late nap to get them ready for movie night (which had been shifted a little earlier to accommodate for bedtimes. Steve had also shifted his boys’ nap time a little later to make sure they could make it the whole night without an exhaustion driven melt down). 

“Up and at ‘em, boys.” Steve called, shifting a still sleepy Clint on top of the covers to change him. 

As Steve tossed the wet pull up and started wiping Clint down, Clint sleepily said, “I want a pull up tonight, Daddy. Just in case.” Clint had a little blush on his cheeks, but otherwise seemed too sleepy to work up embarrassment over the request. 

“I think that’s smart, lovebug. But you gotta let me know if you have an accident. We don’t want any rashes.” Clint blushed a little more but nodded as Steve pulled a pull up on. Bucky had woken up some more too, and he was leaning against the headboard, blinking sleepily at them and sucking his pacifier. 

“Me too, Daddy?” Bucky asked. 

“I think so, bud.” Steve confirmed. He blew a quick raspberry on Clint’s stomach, which successfully made the embarrassment disappear and woke his boy up. “Clinty, why don’t you go pick out your outfit for tonight while I change your brother.”

“‘Kay Daddy!” Clint hopped up off the bed, dressed only in his pull up and running over to the bureau he and Bucky now shared. Watching clothes start to fly, Steve fondly rolled his eyes and turned back to his other boy. He crooked a finger at Bucky. 

“C’mere, Buckaroo.” Bucky smiled around his pacifier and shuffled over on his bum (crawling wasn’t really possible, with just the one arm) and lay back on his back, gazing up at Steve. Steve gave him a quick kiss on the forehead and stripped Bucky of his sleep t-shirt and his diaper. He found one of Bucky’s pull ups in the mess of diaper stuff at the foot of the bed and got that into place. Bucky still preferred plain white, but sometimes he would let Clint decorate them with stickers. “Do you want to pick your clothes or do you want me to?” Steve asked, rubbing a soothing hand over Bucky’s stomach (Bucky had eaten too much last night and thrown up. They were off strictly portioned meals so that Bucky could feel out what the right amount was. Steve wasn’t supposed to step in.) 

“Daddy do.” Bucky said, rolling onto his side so he could watch his brother. Clint had about half the contents of the bureau on the floor and was currently stuck in his t-shirt. Steve laughed and went over to help Clint sort the holes out. Once he got it in place, he noticed that it was one of the first pieces of clothing Steve had gotten for Clint. It was bright purple and in white lettering read  _ Daddy’s Little Hero _ . Clint had paired it with bright blue sweats and mismatched socks for the evening. 

“You sure that’s what you wanna wear, bud?” Steve asked cautiously, not sure big Clint would approve. Clint flushed and kicked at the floor.

“Makes me feel little and safe,” He whispered, shoving his thumb in his mouth. Steve smiled softly  and pushed Clint’s hair back from his eyes. 

“Alright then. Now, help me clean this mess up so I can find some clothes for your brother.” Clint whined but complied. Steve picked out a stripey tee and some sweat pants for Bucky and quickly got him dressed, taking the extra time to pin back the fabric of the left sleeve.

“Now, why don’t you two go pick out a couple toys to bring down tonight while I finish up in here.” Steve said, lifting Bucky and setting him on the floor. Clint grabbed Bucky’s arm and pulled him after him, hollering about making sure he brought his dinosaurs. 

Steve chuckled. He gathered up the soiled pull ups from nap and chucked them. Pulling out a rarely used diaper bag, he folded an extra t-shirt and pair of pants into it. (The boys were close enough in size that they shared little clothes). He added a couple clean pull ups, a package of wipes, an extra pacifier, and Clint’s blanket. Deciding that was all he needed in the bedroom, Steve went into the living room. Clint was trying to shove the entire dollhouse into his backpack. 

Steve held back laughter. He set the diaper bag on the couch. “I think that’s too big to bring tonight, bud. Let’s see what else you packed.” The entire bottom of the bag was filled with legos. Steve struggled to contain a grin. From the cupboard he grabbed a smaller box of legos that he usually brought in the car. Emptying the bag, he slid the box in. He happily listened to Clint debating the merits of his various dinosaurs while he helped Bucky pick toys for the night. Bucky, with Steve’s guidance, packed a raggedy ann doll, some play doh (also helpful if there was a tantrum) and a coloring book and markers. Clint finally narrowed his selection down to five dinosaurs and a sticker book. Steve left them momentarily to grab two sippy cups (Bucky especially could not be trusted with a regular cup, but he wouldn’t use a sippy cup unless Clint did too) and added those to his diaper bag. 

Lifting the two bags up, Steve asked, “Ready boys?” 

Both boys got quiet. Clint’s body got tense while Bucky’s started to tremble. Steve crouched in front of them. 

“Do you remember what I said about tonight?” He asked gently. 

“Dat you’re gonna stay wit’ us.” Bucky muttered, sucking his pacifier fiercely. 

“And that no one’s gonna be mean,” Clint added, looking shy. 

“That’s right.” Steve nodded, “So there is no reason to be afraid. We’re going to have such a wonderful time with our friends.” He gathered them close for a reassuring hug. He checked the time over their heads. Already ten minutes late. With practiced ease, Steve picked both boys up in one move, getting each situated on a hip. 

JARVIS didn’t even need prompting to open the door and bring the elevator to them. Sometimes Steve really loved JARVIS. The boys got more and more nervous as the elevator approached the common floor. Steve felt the same way, but he tried to bury it. He loved his boys, he loved his team, and he was pretty sure this was all going to go just fine. 

 

Steve was strong, but he knew he looked a bit ridiculous when he emerged from the elevator, a bag over each shoulder, and a boy (grown man) in each arm. The team was around the kitchen table, dishes already laid out and food (ordered from Tony’s favorite Italian place) waiting. He saw Tony stifle a smirk and comment. Sam, Pepper, and Bruce all chuckled at him. 

Thor stood up and approached, booming, “My goodness, my friend, your arms are quite full! May I offer my assistance?” Clint flinched into Steve, not used to Thor when he was little. It was actually Bucky who seemed fine, what with his bi-weekly visits from Thor. 

“Bucky, you wanna go to Thor?” Steve asked gently. 

“Nuhuh.” Bucky said, face hidden in Steve’s shoulder and arm tightening around his neck. 

“Thank you, Thor. I’m alright. We’ll just come join you for dinner. Bucky, they got you some spaghetti and meatballs!” Bucky shifted a little, but still didn’t reveal his face. “And Clint, I think I see some mac and cheese!” Steve approached the table carefully, not wanting anyone or anything to get hit by a wayward foot. Thor retook his seat, and Steve was pleased to see the thoughtful layout of seating arrangement. The three seats that remained empty were on one side of the table. Phil was at one end and Thor at the other, meaning each boy could sit next to someone they were familiar with. Steve made a mental note to thank Phil later, knowing that this careful seating had to be his brainchild. 

Steve attempted to put the boys into their chairs, but both of them grabbed him harder and refused, faces hidden. Steve sighed. “Boys, I can’t hold you both and eat dinner.”

“Yuhuh.” Clint muttered. Sam turned a laugh into a cough at Steve’s look. 

“Is there anything we can do to help?” Bruce asked. Steve thought. He wasn’t sure what would make his boys feel more at ease. 

“Just start eating,” Steve finally advised. “They’ll ease up on their own time. Phil, if I could get you help putting these bags down?” Phil stood, nodding, and helped to draw each bag down around the boys and put them on the floor. Steve could feel the others watching, but at least they were also talking and eating, and the clink of silverware and soft chatter filled the room. Steve sat down in the middle seat, still holding both boys. The chair creaked a little and Steve shifted cautiously. 

“Don’t you want to eat some dinner?” Steve whispered to his boys, settling one of them onto each leg. 

Clint shrugged. But Bucky spoke, very very quietly, “Dun want to see paci.”

“Oh,” Steve said. “Alright I’m gonna move my arm a minute, you just spit it into my hand and I’ll hide it.” It took a little maneuvering and sleight of hand, but Steve managed to get the pacifier hid away in his pocket without too much fuss. The offending item removed, Bucky relaxed a little (though he was also biting his lip) and peeked his eyes out. Pepper caught him and gave him a little wave. Bucky squeaked, and ducked his face back against Steve. Steve sent Pepper a glad smile. 

“They’re probably the most adorable little boys I’ve ever seen,” Pepper said, eyes crinkled up in a smile. 

“That’s because you haven’t seen what a mess they can make,” Steve said with a wink. He jiggled his legs a bit as Pepper laughed. Clint let out something that was halfway between a whine and a giggle. Bucky was now eyeing the spaghetti and meatballs. 

“Pepper, could I get you to put some spaghetti on Bucky’s plate for me?” Steve asked. Pepper obliged, scooping a generous serving out. 

“Buck, you ready for some dinner?” Steve asked. Bucky thought for a long moment, but nodded and let Steve set him down. He kept his eyes firmly down and away from everyone. The team seemed to take the cue and didn’t try to engage him. With one arm free, Steve was able to arrange Bucky’s silverware so that it was all on one side for him. Bucky held the plate for him while Steve cut up the meatballs into bite sized pieces. Bucky momentarily tended to and happy, Steve turned his attention back to Clint. 

“You gonna come out, Clint? We didn’t have a snack today, I bet you’re pretty hungry.”

Clint squeezed a little tighter, but asked in a tiny voice, “Mac n’ cheese.”

“Yup!” Steve turned to ask Phil, only to find him already filling Clint’s plate. “It’s all ready for you, bud.”

Clint hesitated, but finally squirmed down into his seat and started to eat. Both arms free, Steve took a minute to move water glasses out of reach. There was a pitcher of juice on the table, which was a thoughtful touch - probably Pepper, he decided as he pulled the sippy cups out of his bag, and poured some juice into each cup and set them in front of each boy. 

“Sippy cups, really?” Tony asked, just as Clint was reaching for his. Clint pulled his arm back as if burned and Steve glared. 

“Says the man with wine on his shirt,” Steve said, settling the cup into Clint’s hands. Clint giggled as Tony startled and looked down at his t-shirt. There was a stain there, but it was probably grease, not wine. Tony seemed to get the point though. 

“Got any more of those in your magic bag, Cap?” He asked. Steve smiled. 

“‘Fraid not, Tony. Reserved for my best boys only.” Clint took a hesitant sip of his juice, eyes scanning the table for any more poor reactions. Natasha was staring, Steve noticed, but she seemed to be withholding judgement. Steve wondered what Phil had said to her, after they’d broken the news. He decided he probably didn’t want to know. 

With both boys occupied, Steve filled up his own plate and ate as quickly as he could manage - he knew he’d be called on before long. He was right, too. 

Bucky had finished most of his pasta. Pepper kindly offered, “Would you like some more Bucky?”

Bucky froze and trembled. Steve lay a reassuring hand on his shoulder. 

“It’s alright, you decide and tell Pepper.”

Bucky just trembled harder. 

“Would you like some help making the decision?” Steve asked, rubbing his thumb in soothing circles over Bucky’s skin. Bucky nodded jerkily. “Okay, well there will be dessert after and popcorn during the movie. You don’t want to eat too much, but you do need to get a good dinner. What do you think a good choice would be?”

Bucky shook, and on Steve’s other side, Clint scooched a little closer, looking at his brother around Steve’s body. 

Finally, Bucky whispered, “A vegetable?”

“That’s an excellent choice, Bucky! Good job! I’m really proud, bud, that was hard. I think we can put up a star when we go home tonight. I’ll pick a vegetable for you.”

Clint leaned over Steve’s lap and said, “Good choosing!” Bucky smiled a little at them and ducked his head. Steve was aware of many eyes on them, but he tried to continue like this was just a regular dinner at home. He picked out a couple pieces of zucchini and eggplant for Bucky and put them on his plate. 

“How ‘bout you Clint, you ready for a vegetable?” Steve asked, turning to his other boy. Clint’s mouth and hands were, unsurprisingly covered in cheese. Steve smiled and grabbed a napkin and started to wipe him down. 

“Nuhuh!” Clint whined, wiggling away from Steve’s hands. Steve let him go, figuring he’d get a proper clean in after desert. 

“Well I guess Bucky and I will eat all the ice cream without you.” Steve said, slyly turning back to his own meal. Bruce was staring at him, a thoughtful look in his eyes. Steve winked. Bruce let out a surprised smile. 

“Ice cream?” Clint asked. 

“Yeah.” Steve said, turning to check on Bucky, who seemed content with his veggies. 

“Okay…” Clint pouted.

“Okay what?” Steve asked, turning back.

“Okay I’ll eat vegetables.” Clint sulkily said. Sam and Tony simultaneously choked on their water, hiding laughter in coughs. 

“Good boy,” Steve said. “Which vegetables would you like?”

“Want what Bucky’s got.” Clint said, putting his elbows on the table and pouting like it was an olympic sport. Steve held back laughter as he scooped eggplants and zucchini onto Clint’s plate. He turned to Tony and Sam, rolling his eyes dramatically, sending them into more laughing fits. 

Despite little Clint’s many protests, he didn’t actually dislike any food. (Too many years hungry for that.) The show of defiance was actually something Steve took great pleasure in seeing, because it meant that Clint felt safe and cared for. The evident regard in Phil’s eyes seemed to mean he recognized that too. Steve’s eyes fell on Natasha, the only other intimately familiar with Clint’s issues with food. She met his gaze steadily and nodded, once. And that was all the approval he was likely to get from her. It was all he needed. 

The boys were a little tenser and quieter than they usually were during meals, but that was probably just as well. Steve didn’t think the others would appreciate little Clint’s usual manners. Of course, as soon as Clint was done eating, he wanted to play. The issue was that he was too shy to ask (and probably too shy to move too far from Steve). And Steve had strict rules about toys at the dinner table. So Clint just sat there and fidgeted while the grown ups finished. As soon as the last adult (Thor) had finished, Clint was pulling at Steve’s sleeve. 

“Go play, Daddy?” Tony made a little huffing noise and Clint blushed. 

“I think that some play would be a most excellent way to pass the time until dessert!” Thor boomed. Clint looked at him with wide eyes. “Why last time that I visited Bucky, we played with a an excellent set of dinosaurs.”

Thor had, of course, said the magic words. “I brought my dinosaurs!” Clint chimed, sitting up and looking for the backpack. “Last time we played that they were brought to the future, but sumthin went wrong and they got real smart and then they took over the world. Bucky and I need to build their spaceship!” 

“Spaceship building, now there’s something I can get behind!” Tony said, rubbing his hands together gleefully. “Show us what you’ve got by way of supplies!” 

Clint went to dump the toys on the table and Steve stopped him just in time. 

“Not at the table,” Steve said firmly. “You can take your toys into the living room.”

“‘Kay Daddy!” Clint agreed, clambering to his feet and running for the living room. Steve rolled his eyes fondly and looked down at Bucky. Thor and Tony had followed Clint down into the living space. 

“Do you wanna go play, Buckaroo?” He asked. 

Bucky hesitated. “You come?”

“I need to help clean up -” Steve started. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Natasha said. “We’ve got it.”

Tony chose that moment to holler up that they needed Bruce’s physics expertise and Phil’s skills with logistical planning. Sam laughed. 

“I guess that’s me, Natasha, and Pepper. I never say no to cleaning with two beautiful women.” Sam winked and dodged the washcloth that Natasha sent at his head. 

Steve chuckled and picked Bucky up. “Alright, bud. Let’s go play.” He grabbed the diaper bag and took the short flight of stairs down to the living room. They had gathered around the game table and were using the back of one of the pages of Bucky’s coloring book to draw up some schematics. Steve quickly rescued Bucky’s doll and playdoh from the mayhem, and sat them down at the corner of the group with Bucky in his lap. Bucky stayed quiet and didn’t seem to have much interest in the loud game going on right next to him. Instead, he and Steve built little sculptures out of playdoh. Every once and while, Clint would run over to Steve to show him the last little bit they had built. Steve gave him the appropriate oohs and aahs and basked in the feeling of being surrounded by his loved ones, all of them happy and relaxed with each other. No serious secrets were being held and both his boys were well cared for. 

It wasn’t long before Sam was calling them in for dessert. Generally, Clint would not leave such an exciting game for anything. But ice cream trumped pretty much everything, Steve had discovered, smiling as Clint pulled him up the stairs and into the kitchen. Clint stopped and gaped. There were about seventeen different flavors of ice cream on the table and a huge assortment of toppings. 

Steve chuckled and ruffled Clint’s hair. “You’ve just made his day,” He said to Natasha, who was standing closest. She grinned a little. The next minute Steve had to grab Clint by the back of his t-shirt to stop him from launching himself at the table and gorging himself. 

“Woah there, hot pants. Come sit down and wait for everybody to join us.” Clint whined but joined Steve in sitting down. Bucky was already trembling the face of all the choices, so Steve went ahead and served him a scoop of vanilla and a scoop of chocolate with rainbow sprinkles. 

“Now Clint, you can have two scoops and three toppings.”

“Three scoops and four toppings.” Clint said back, a pout already threatening. 

“Sorry, bud. Two and three.”

“Want more than that,” Clint said, lip trembling.  _ Oh boy _ , Steve thought. He really didn’t want to deal with a Clint tantrum at the moment. Though Clint’s tantrums were always about pushing boundaries to get what he wanted (and to see how far he could push Steve) and were never very serious, they set Bucky off in a split second, and then the night would be ruined.

“It’s that or nothing.” Steve said firmly. 

“You’re a meanie!” Clint hollered.  _ If the others hadn’t been watching before, they certainly were now,  _ Steve thought with a sigh. 

“Clint, you can stay and have two scoops of ice cream with your friends or you can go to bed. Those are your options.”

“No!” Clint wailed. Bucky was starting to shake in Steve’s arms. 

“I’m going to count to three and if you can’t calm yourself down, I will make the choice and I don’t think you’ll like it. One…” Like always, Clint stopped as soon as Steve started counting. He sat back down in his seat, face already contrite. 

“Good. Now apologize to your friends, because I don’t think they liked seeing behavior like that.” 

Clint looked up and blushed. Hard. “Sorry,” He mumbled, head immediately ducking down. Steve could see tears threatening and he rubbed a hand over Clint’s back and gave him a tight one-armed hug. 

“It’s alright, buddy. Everyone forgives you,” There were immediate affirmations from their friends. 

Clint nodded and started edging his way onto Steve’s lap. Steve sighed, but hefted his boy up, shifting so that each boy sat on one leg again.

“You always seem to end up this way, don’t you?” Sam asked with a chuckle. Steve rolled his eyes playfully but squeezed his boys tight. 

“It’s more common than you might think. Now I have a feeling that Clint is going to want one scoop of moose tracks and one scoop of mint chocolate chip. Is that right, lovebug?”

Clint blushed a bit at the nickname, but nodded. “And what would you like for your toppings?”

“Uhm. Sprinkles, chocolate chips and coconut.” Clint mumbled, his hands edging ever closer to his mouth. 

“Well you heard the man,” Sam said playfully, “We better load him up.”

Steve shifted the boys again, so they could face the table and reach their ice cream bowls. That’s when he felt Clint’s pull up squish in a very telling way. 

_ Oh no,  _ Steve thought.  _ Shoot _ . Clint was going to devastated as soon as he noticed. Steve would have to try to keep him from noticing until he could get him somewhere private. Clint generally did notice when he had an accident when he was little - but not if he was really little or really into playing. Which he had been tonight, not to mention distressed and embarrassed and overwhelmed. Well, Steve would just have to be grateful that he was wearing a pull up and they could keep this private. Subtly, Steve shifted his other leg, trying to check the state of Bucky, but he couldn’t tell for sure. 

He should have taken them to the bathroom before coming down, but they’d been late and…

_ No use beating yourself up _ , Steve thought to himself firmly.  _ It happened, now you deal with the fall out.  _

Luckily the ice cream provided both a suitable distraction and an excuse to take his boys to the bathroom. Both of them had managed to absolutely cover their faces with ice cream, not to mention their hands and shirts. 

Steve rolled his eyes and stood up, “I’m going to take these two monsters to get washed up. We’ll be back shortly.”

The others laughed and grinned as Steve carefully carried his boys down the stairs to grab their bag and slide into the bathroom. The bathroom on the communal floor wasn’t as big as on the private floors, and it was a bit of a tight squeeze. Steve ended up setting a boy on the counter on either side of the sink. He pulled out some wet wipes as Clint chattered away to Bucky about the ice cream and his game. Steve briskly wiped down faces and hands, and dabbed the worst of the mess off their shirts. 

Then came the hard part. 

“Clint, lovebug, we need to get you changed real quick.” Clint frowned down at his t-shirt. 

“S’clean enough,” He said. 

“Not your clothes, bud. Need to change your pull up,” Steve said apologetically.

Clint flushed and then paled dramatically. “What? No! I - I didn’t…” But Clint was shifting in place now. His face collapsed into distress when he confirmed what Steve had said. He started crying quiet, broken sobs. 

Steve scooped him up, cuddling him tight. With his other hand he popped a paci from the bag into Bucky’s mouth and grabbed Clint’s blanket, which he tucked into his boy’s hand. Clint pulled it close and slid his thumb into his mouth, tears dripping down his face and off the end of his nose.

“Oh, lovebug, it’s okay. That’s why we wore pull ups tonight, isn’t it? Just in case. Sometimes accidents happen and you know I don’t mind. I love you so much. You’re my beautiful, wonderful boy.” Clint hitched a sob and rubbed his nose on Steve’s t-shirt, leaving a streak of snot. 

“D’you think anyone knows?” Clint whispered. 

“No. No one knows.” Steve promised. Clint nodded, sniffling back tears and sucking steadily on his thumb. Steve gently lay him down on the floor, thankful for Pepper’s decorators and their omnipresent and inappropriate rugs. Clint grabbed his pants as Steve attempted to pull them down, crying a little harder. 

“JARVIS isn’t going to let anyone in,” Steve assured.

Clint sobbed weakly, but let go of his pants. Steve gently pulled them down. He stripped the pull up and balled it into a bag, tossing it directly into the garbage chute, making sure Clint could see. Clint wouldn’t want any evidence left behind. He briskly cleaned Clint up, replacing the pull up with a dry one. He quickly got each boy to use the bathroom, to help prevent further incidents, and helped both boys to wash their hands. Clint clung to him, still breathing wetly and hitching through the remainders of sobs. Bucky quickly grabbed his hand and sucked a little harder on his pacifier. 

Bucky didn’t seem to mind that they were going out in front of the other’s now, so Steve left him with his pacifier and Clint with his blanket (which Clint used to hide behind) as they emerged. The lights were already dimmed, but there had been a space left for them in the middle of the couch and a couple of Clint’s dinosaurs and Bucky’s doll were sitting on the coffee table with their sippy cups. 

“Everything alright?” Bruce asked, voice concerned, eyeing Clint. 

Steve nodded. “Just a minor upset,” He said. “Nothing to be fussed about.” He settled down, Bucky on one side and Clint in his lap. Tony started the movie. 

With  the unfailable magic of being little, both Clint and Bucky appeared to forget all about Clint’s upset, that they were ever embarrassed (or even what embarrassment was) and leaned forward to lose themselves in the movie. Clint talked excitedly around his thumb, waving his blanket around and Bucky sucked his pacifier and held his doll and giggled. All around them were their friends, the family they had built for themselves. Every once and awhile he caught a fond glance, a smile, or a chuckle aimed at his boys. 

Steve was excited. This felt like something new and wonderful. He couldn’t wait to see what it would bring them. 

  
_ fin. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the end! But not really. I will be posting sequels and one-shots once a week for at least the next two months. I'll post more details about the specific schedule on this [tumblr post.](https://imdefinitelyyourcat.tumblr.com/post/146075451484/everyone-deserves-a-chance-to-be-small) Thanks for sticking with me so far, guys! Your thoughtful comments have blown my mind and kept this verse going on far longer than I thought it would!

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](https://imdefinitelyyourcat.tumblr.com/) if that strikes your fancy. I mostly reblog stucky things and CA:CW feels. I welcome asks and messages and just plain old creepers. I sometimes post ficlet and headcanons for this verse!


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